


Match Makers

by caitlinrose923



Series: Match Makers Universe [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Office (US)
Genre: Anti-Neal, F/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 37,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitlinrose923/pseuds/caitlinrose923
Summary: Salesman Killian Jones has been in love with receptionist Emma Swan for as long as he can remember. While he's left pining away for her, a ring on her finger from another man, he's setting up half the office on dates. (In other words, OUAT in an Office 'verse)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was trying to sleep one night and this idea came to me. 
> 
> Please note, this story is VERY anti-Neal. If you are pro-Neal, this story is not for you. However, he is, of course, the "Roy" character, and so his relationship with Emma is fairly prominent for a presently undetermined amount of time.

Killian Jones had been in love with Emma Swan since before he could remember. 

Which meant he’d been working at this job for far too long. Storybrooke Paper Company was supposed to be a temporary thing. He was supposed to sell some paper, save up, and get out. But it had been three long years and here he was, still at the same desk, with the same crabby deskmate.

In love with the same - engaged - receptionist.

Killian started at SPC shortly before the engagement. Emma had been the first person to greet him - natural, with a title like receptionist and a desk by the front door. But then she’d been essentially the only person to greet him, aside from his overzealous, well-meaning boss, Regina.

“You must be the new salesman I ordered,” she’d said drily. “They didn’t charge me for international shipping, so that’s a plus at least!” Regina had cocked one eyebrow at him, waiting for him to acknowledge her joke about his accent.

“Ah yeah, they must have thrown that in for free,” Killian had managed, before heading for his desk and catching Emma’s eye on the way.

It had happened so naturally that Killian couldn’t even remember thinking about walking to her desk. He’d just done it. He’d walked over, leaned over casually, stuffed a few M&Ms from her jar into his mouth, and asked,

“Is she always like that?”

“Pretty much, yeah. She used to be more stern and serious, but this past year, she’s started trying to lighten up a bit. Sometimes it works and other times...well, you see.”

They’d talked about what else he could expect from his co-workers, to the point where they really couldn’t continue the conversation at reception, what with listening ears constantly...listening, so she’d invited him to lunch at an Italian place down the street.

“To welcome you to...whatever this place ends up being for you.”

During their hour-long lunch break, Killian had learned that Mary Margaret, from accounting, was straight-laced and no-nonsense, but she had a soft spot for Killian’s very own deskmate, David. David, of course, had no inkling of Mary Margaret’s feelings for him. Emma’s theory was that that was why he was so nasty all the time: he loved her back, but they were both too blind to see it.

He also learned that Emma was beautiful, funny, had the greatest smile he’d ever seen, and the most beautiful eyes to match. He learned that they both preferred the literary versions of anything to the film versions, that they both loved chicken parmesan and sweet potato fries, and that he would do anything to make her laugh this way all the time.

They’d gotten seats at the bar instead of a table, and they’d slowly gravitated towards each other, stools moving closer with every joke, and suddenly, right before he reached into his wallet to pay and maybe make a comment about a second date, she’d dropped the bomb.

“Oh, I should get these leftovers boxed for my boyfriend. His name’s Neal, he works in the warehouse. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

Three long, endless years and one proposal - but no wedding, Killian hastily added to himself - and he was still here. Still gossiping with the receptionist, still leaning over her desk casually to stuff candy into his mouth.

“Are you going to Mary Margaret’s bird party tonight?” she asked him.

“Wait, this party is for a bird? I thought it was for, like, a kid she’d never told us about or something. Surely you’re joking.”

“Killian. I would never joke about something as serious as a bird party. This is Archie’s 3rd birthday party we’re talking about.”

Killian laughed, which made Emma laugh. Which made Killian’s heart soar. Until the light caught off of her diamond ring and he - and his heart - crashed back down to earth.

“I do have another proposition for you though, love.” It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He wasn’t one for pet names, especially for his just friends, but he found himself slipping into that one with ease. Oops.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Her green eyes glinted with excitement - she likely expected some type of prank for David, or a revenge plan for Regina, who’d just had them waste exactly 3 hours in the conference room for a meeting about...what was it about? Regina’s time wasting meetings all blended together after a while, and Killian mostly spent his time in them laughing with Emma.

“A few of us are going out for drinks, thought maybe you’d like to come.”

“Oh, yeah actually, that sounds nice! I’ll ask Neal if he’s okay with it.”

Killian bit back a groan, nodded, and headed back to his desk.

It hadn’t taken long for Killian to meet Neal, as Emma had promised. He’d come barreling in that very afternoon, only a few short hours after Killian’s heart had been crushed by learning of his existence.

“You ready yet, babe? I wanna get home in time for the game.”

“It’s 4:45, Neal.”

“Yeah, so? Hey, Gina, you’re cool with Emma leaving early today, right?”

Killian turned quickly to look into the office behind him. He caught the dark flash in Regina’s eyes before she grinned and agreed.

“Sure, it’s been a long day, she’s worked hard. We’ll see you tomorrow, Emma!”

“You know she hates that nickname, Neal,” she’d whispered on her way out, with a quick wave to Killian. “It was nice meeting you today!”

“You, too,” but she was already gone.

Since then, Killian had tried to bond with Neal, hoping maybe he could somehow understand the relationship. Because, for the life of him, he couldn’t. Where Emma was smart and creative and fun, Neal was brash and rude and just sort of boring. He never listened when Emma spoke, never supported her in her endeavors. And Killian knew this because Emma came to him to talk instead. They had a standing lunch date in the kitchen, where she’d tell him all about all of her problems - or the problems of the people on the trashy reality TV she watched. 

The fact that he could so easily click with this woman, while her fiance would barely say three words to him made no sense. Killian knew he could be a bit standoffish on his bad days, but overall, he thought he was a pretty good guy. He’d had a rough go of it for a while, but he tried his best not to let it affect his daily interactions with people. He didn’t know about Neal’s past - didn’t really want to - but he suspected that they had a bit in common, and that Neal was a version of who he could have been if he’d let the demons take him over.

Which is to say that Neal was always miserable, despite being engaged to one of the most beautiful women Killian had ever seen, and Killian did his best to keep his spirits up, despite the fact that the woman he was in love with was engaged to a total douche.

Because Killian was the person Emma went to with her problems, he knew that Neal regularly objected to workplace outings. Emma wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, preferring to keep to her quiet corner of the office most of the time, but she liked to get to know people. She liked going out with her co-workers, she’d told Killian, because she had to see the business side of them, and she wanted to know what they were like when they let loose, even a little bit. But Neal was a hermit, to borrow Emma’s word, and he didn’t care about his own co-workers downstairs in the warehouse, nevermind Emma’s co-workers up here in the land of fluorescent lights and candy jars and copy machines.

He already knew she wasn’t going tonight, even before he heard her cell phone buzz and saw the disappointed look on her face.

Damn Neal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written pretty far ahead in the story, so I feel confident posting an update already. I hope you all love it!

In three years, Killian had learned a lot about his co-workers. He had a pretty good idea of who they were, their likes and dislikes. He knew Ruby loved gossip, mostly about celebrities, to make up for boring small town life. He knew Victor loved Ruby, but was too obsessed with himself to realize it. He knew that the girl from HR, Tracy, was a stick in the mud who almost no one liked, least of all Regina.

He knew that his deskmate, David Nolan, had a stick up his ass, and he was determined to get it out.

“David’s in rare form today,” he was telling Emma over lunch. The kitchen was quiet aside from the low hum of the fridge next to them.

“What’s he doing now?” She took a sip of her hot chocolate, staring at him over the cup, clearly trying to hide a laugh. They had this conversation, or one similar, every week. David was _always_ in rare form. Which, Killian supposed, made it not so rare, but it did seem to be worse every week, he swore.

“I asked him about his farm, a genuine question! And--”

“A genuine question. About David’s farm. Before you tell me what he said, I want to know what you asked him.”

“That’s...not really important.”

“Killian!”

“I asked him about the sheep.”

“Killian.”

“I asked him if he’d ever sold any wool, Emma, it’s a real question!”

She stared at him, knowing he wasn’t telling the whole truth. She called it a superpower, being able to tell when people were lying to her. Killian thought there was more to it, but The Past wasn’t something they talked about in all of their hours together at this table. They stuck with The Present - Neal and Regina and David, usually. Mostly Neal.

“I asked him if my friend Bo had been by to buy any wool.”

“Your friend Bo.” It wasn’t a question. She knew he was still leaving something out.

“Yeah, you know, my good friend Bo Peep.”

“KILLIAN!” She practically screeched. “Oh no, Killian, what did he say?”

“Well, he didn’t catch onto the omission of the last name - not as smart as you, Swan - so he asked what my friend Bo looked like. What he would have been wearing, what day he might have shown up. The usual David line of questioning.” Emma’s face was bright red now, from holding in laughter. “It took him a full ten minutes to remember that he doesn’t even sell wool.”

She couldn’t hold it in at that. She burst out laughing and Killian sat back, beaming. It was always a good lunch when she ended up in tears from laughter. The good kind of tears.

“Killian, what did he say!?” she asked once she’d caught her breath again.

“Well, he obviously went on about how I’d wasted his time and the time of my friend Bo, because if Bo did turn up at his farm to buy wool, there wouldn’t be any. And then he told me I’m a terrible friend - to Bo, of course, not to him - and also that I should really listen to people when they talk, because he’s told me multiple times that he doesn’t own any sheep.”

“Oh, wow. A harsh lecture from Nolan today. He’s serious about those sheep. Or lack thereof.”

“I was thinking of setting him up.”

“For a prank?”

“On a date.”

“Wait, what? How did we get from sheep to dating. Unless you’re setting him up with a sheep. Because that...actually might work. She might understand him better than a human woman.”

“I was thinking Mary Margaret, actually.”

“What?”

“You said yourself, on my very first day, that they’re in love with each other. Why not set them up?” He blushed a bit, hoping she hadn’t caught the fact that he remembered something so specific from their first date/not-date. He remembered every interaction with Emma, but he tried his best not to let on just how smitten he was with her.

“Because that can’t be forced, Killian.” She spoke like she knew from experience.

“Emma, it’s been three years. And then some, if you already knew about it by then. Enough is enough. They’ll both be happier for it. I’m doing it.”

“Operation Prince Charming, then?”

“Why Prince Charming?”

“Because you’ll need to make him into one, won’t you?”

“Nah, I suspect Mary Margaret’s already seen the worst of him, and she’s still in love thus far.”

“Fair point. Let me know how it goes,” and she was gone. Killian hadn’t even realized lunch was over.

Sliding back into his desk, he gave David a once-over. He was a good looking guy, just so cranky all the time. But when David glanced over at accounting, Killian saw a softness take over his features. And he was good at his job, made good money, plus he had to have a decent sized house, living on a farm and all. Mary Margaret was the stern head of accounting, head of the party planning committee, and the safety captain - whatever that meant. She was quiet, but firm, and often got what she wanted because of her dedication to whatever cause she took on. She, like David, was often cranky, but it was well-known that she wanted the best for all of her co-workers. She planned the best parties because she thought they all deserved the best.

“David, I’d like to set you up on a blind date,” Killian tried not to look towards accounting, not wanting to make it obvious that she was the victim - yikes, that was harsh, he supposed.

“Is this about your friend Bo again? Killian, I’m not--”

“No, David, it’s not. I just know someone I think you’d get along with. I’ll set it all up, you’d just have to show up. Would that be okay with you?” He could feel Emma staring at him. He knew she hadn't thought he’d do it.

“Can I see a picture first? I have particular tastes. I doubt you’d be friends with anyone who would interest me.” David crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look serious, but Killian saw his glance towards accounting.

“You’d be surprised, Dave. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea. We’ve been deskmates for years, I must have learned a thing or two by now. And no, no pictures. _Blind_ date, remember?”

“Fine. But if I don’t like her, I’m leaving.”

“Deal.”

Killian was surprised it had been that easy to get David to agree. He knew the man didn’t like him, didn’t trust him. David didn’t really trust anybody.

Mary Margaret was going to be much more difficult. They rarely spoke, unless there was an issue with his paychecks, so the ‘I know you pretty well by now’ argument wouldn’t work. He was about to formulate a plan when he saw Emma get up from her desk.

“Hey, Mary Margaret? I was about to head over and get something from the vending machine, but I wanted to talk to you. Would you come with me?”

“To the vending machine?”

“Sure. It’s quieter back there, so I can...ask you something.”

“Fine, but let’s be quick.”

Emma winked at Killian as she walked by with Mary Margaret, and Killian’s jaw hit the floor.

A good lass, that Swan.

Ten minutes later, he was at her desk finalizing the plans for Operation Prince Charming. They chose Ruby’s grandmother’s restaurant as the location - she gave Ruby’s co-workers discounts, and Killian was planning to pre-pay for a bottle of champagne or something. Plus, Mary Margaret was very particular about her food, but they’d seen her eat at Granny’s before, so they knew she’d get _something_. 8PM seemed like enough time for them to go home and get ready. They told their respective co-workers the plan, separately of course, not wanting to be obvious.

“Should we go and watch them from a corner booth or something?” Emma suggested.

_Yes. We should go and sit in a corner booth and you can order your hot chocolate with cinnamon and I’ll hold the door and pay and then I’ll walk you to your doorstep and you’ll--_

“Yeah, definitely! We’ll have to be inconspicuous though!” He winked at her. “I’ll pick you up at 7:30,” he whispered before walking back to his desk, not giving her any time to argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, we'll see a bit of how MM & David's date goes ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the focus of the story is Killian/Emma, I'm keeping David and Mary Margaret's date very simple. But I still think it leaves a good image, yeah?

“Okay, Swan, the prince is in the castle,” Killian whispered to Emma. He was facing the booth David was waiting in, a tiny silver ‘RESERVED’ sign on the end, a bucket of ice and champagne looking awkward and out-of-place next to the bright red napkin holder. He had suggested he and Emma both sit on the same side of their table, so they could see, but she had blushed a bit and said the seat was too crowded for that, and she’d be fine over here, really. Hence, the play-by-play.

“In the castle? Really?”

“What would you like me to say, then?”

“That David’s in the booth, maybe?”

“You’re the one who came up with this ‘Operation’ title, I was just trying to stick with the theme.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before looking out the window. Her eyes flashed with surprise.

“She’s here!”

“Who’s here?” He knew perfectly well who was there, but he wanted to see if she’d give in to his game.

She hesitated at first, thinking, taking in Mary Margaret’s pale skin, short dark hair, and top button cardigan.

“Snow White is entering the kingdom,” she rolled her eyes at herself, but she was smiling.

“Ha! See, Swan, it’s more fun this way.”

Mary Margaret walked in the door and counted booths - third one from the door, on the left-hand side, Emma had told her - before her eyes finally met David’s.

Killian really didn’t like his deskmate. David was too literal, didn’t understand his humor, and was always bragging about his sales. It was tacky, if you asked Killian, which no one did. Killian also didn’t like Mary Margaret all that much. She was judgmental and stern, and while, yes, she was the head of accounting, she was not _Killian’s_ boss, but that didn’t seem to stop her from telling him what to do.

But Killian _did_ like people to be happy. He liked people to be true to themselves, to their feelings, and he liked people to fall in love. He tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t been true to himself or to Emma about his feelings for her, about the unrequited love he dealt with every day.

Killian watched as Mary Margaret hesitated for a moment, before taking the final few steps and sliding into the booth. She tucked her knee length skirt under her legs, her cheeks flushing to match the pink of her cardigan. David watched her, neither of them saying anything yet. When they finally spoke, Killian was too far away to hear the words. But he could see the smiling, the blushing, and the laughter.

“Killian, what’s happening?” Emma whispered, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“It worked, Swan. Chance a peek at them.”

She pulled a menu over her face, blocking her from the nose down, and turned around and Killian _swore_ he heard her sigh.

“They look really happy. I’m glad you did this. Maybe they’ll be nicer at work now.”

“Doubtful,” Killian chuckled. “But either way, they deserve each other. The good and the bad, I think. And, by the way, _we_ did this. Mary Margaret certainly wouldn’t have agreed to this if I’d been the one to ask her.”

They watched David and Mary Margaret for a while longer, munching on sweet potato fries all the while. And when they saw David’s hand reach for Mary Margaret’s over the table, they knew their work was done.

Killian stayed for a bit after Emma left, excusing herself with a few mumbled words about Neal needing dinner - the man couldn’t even cook for himself, it seemed. He remained hidden behind a menu, ignoring Granny’s pointed looks in his direction. She preferred her solo customers to sit at the bar stools, rather than take up one of her booths. But it was a Wednesday, nearly 10PM. She’d survive. Mary Margaret and David stood up to leave, and Killian watched them, hands intertwined, climb into the same Uber.

And still, Killian stayed, wondering why he did this to himself. He was living vicariously through them, he thought, since he couldn’t find his own happy ending.

Climbing the stairs to his apartment a while later, Killian thought about how he’d found himself in Storybrooke in the first place.

He didn’t like to think of himself as someone with a tragic backstory, but perhaps that’s exactly what it was. He’d been orphaned at a young age, with only his brother to raise him. And Liam had been a better parent than his real parents, anyway. Well, his father at least. His mother had died before he could remember.

Liam had been Killian’s absolute hero. He was strong, smart, and determined. Liam had been a high-ranking Naval officer. Liam had died saving lives.

And Killian was working at a paper company.

Just bloody fantastic.

If Killian were honest with himself, which he really did try to be, he knew that he’d found a safe, boring desk job _because_ of Liam. Not because he was frightened of meeting the same fate as Liam - although that was part of it - but because he was constantly fighting his natural instincts to follow in his older brother’s footsteps. And because Liam would come back to life and kill him if he knew Killian was doing something dangerous just to live up to some imaginary bar that was never really set in the first place.

Killian worked in paper because if he left his boring, safe desk job, then he’d do something dangerous. And _that_ , more than anything, would have disappointed Liam. And Killian couldn’t have that.

He looked around his apartment, at his spacious living room and meager collection of belongings. Killian wasn’t much for sentimental things. He preferred his living quarters to be more open than cluttered, and so he kept things simple. He had one photo on his dresser, an old one of himself and Liam the day Liam had graduated from the Academy.

Shortly after Liam died, Killian had lost it a bit. He drowned his sorrows - nearly literally - in several bottles of rum, and only came up for air for pretty women and occasionally for a job interview. He’d always done his best to sober up and act professional, but most corporate-level employees saw through him and sent him out before the interview was even over.

Until Cora gave him a shot. He’d done a bit of traveling, crossed the pond and seen small towns and big cities and everything in between. Storybrooke was the smallest of small towns, and Killian figured he never really had a shot at one of the only big-time companies located here. Still, he went.

“Cora Mills, a pleasure,” she’d taken his hand in a firm handshake - he loved a woman with a good handshake.

She’d eyed him carefully through the whole interview, comparing the disheveled mess she saw before her to the hard-working, determined young man he presented on his resume.

“You know, I can smell the rum on you. It doesn’t seem like you’re drunk right now, which might be _more_ worrisome considering how much rum I can smell.”

“I...oh. I won’t try and make excuses and waste your time, Ms. Mills. I appreciate the interview,” he’d stood and gotten ready to walk out, to walk back to his car, to the flask in the glove box.

“I didn’t say you had to leave. Look, Killian, I run a tight ship.” Killian tried to hide his wince at her metaphor. “I expect a lot out of my employees, at every level. If I hire you on as a salesman, I’ll expect just as much out of you as I do out of anyone else at this company. I see something, a fire, in you that I don’t see very often - but I think you need to start believing in yourself or you’ll lose that quality. I believe you can be something great. I need you to believe it, too. I’ll tell you what. You’ve got 2 weeks. Sober up - completely, not just for the length of time of an interview - and then come back here. And then we’ll talk about which of my offices you’ll be a good fit for.”

He couldn’t believe it. This woman believed in him. No one had believed in him since Liam. He went home that afternoon and emptied every bottle of rum in his apartment, Liam watching him from the photo on the dresser in his dingy motel room. Killian knew he was imagining things, but it seemed like Liam’s smile grew just a little bit that day.

He’d never expected, of course, that he’d be working under Cora’s own daughter, Regina, at the home SPC office in Storybrooke itself. Or that he’d fall in love with the receptionist. Or that he’d _stay_ at SPC for so long. He’d signed a one year lease for an apartment with his first paycheck, not expecting to be there any longer. And yet….

It was meant to be a stepping stone. But somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten to move to the next stone in his path.

He fell asleep that night, thinking of his brother, sweet potato fries, hot chocolate, and how much he wished it had been himself and Emma holding hands and climbing into an Uber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As long as I can keep up with my current writing speed on this story, you can likely look for updates every 2-3 days, barring any extra work shifts I pick up.
> 
> Also, I guess now's a good time to plug my Tumblr, which is a mish-mash of stuff and not thematic at all, but my ask box is always open if you've got suggestions or comments that you don't want to post here :) So, my tumblr is awkwardnessandbaseball
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Killian didn’t talk about The Past. Cora knew a bit of it, as he felt he’d owed her an explanation after she’d been gracious enough to hire him in the state he was in. She knew he’d lost his brother, that that had sent him spiraling off the deep end and that her job offer was the first time he’d even considered climbing back to land. 

She didn’t know that he was entirely alone. She must have suspected, given that he rarely took personal days, always offered to come in on holidays and weekends when they needed extra help. After all, what else was he doing? 

Emma also never talked about The Past. Killian knew that she’d met Neal in high school, that they’d started dating shortly after graduating and had never looked back. But prior to that part of her life, Killian knew little to nothing about Emma. Which was saying something, because when it came to The Present, Killian knew pretty much everything. He knew that when she was flustered, her cheeks turned bright red - not just a slight pink, but a full on red to match the leather jacket she wore - that she ate her fries by the mouthful, rather than one or two at a time, and he could hear tension or surprise in her voice, and sense delight or discomfort in the slight movements of her face.

It was why he caught the tiny flinch she made when Regina announced that corporate was having them all invite their families to some corporate event that weekend.

He noticed it because he’d looked right at her, his source of comfort, to fight his own natural instinct to flinch.

Family Day. Bloody excellent.

“So, who do you think you’ll invite to this corporate thing?” It was lunchtime, their usual date/not-date taking place in the break room by the annex rather than the kitchen. Killian had sensed that Emma needed a bit of privacy today. The break room, located in the very back of the office, next to the annex, was about as private as it got. Plus, the annex was empty on this particular day. Tracy Blue, HR rep, was out for a week, and Ruby had a lunch date with some mystery man. Victor had been grumbling about it all morning 

So, the break room was all theirs.

“Oh, probably just Neal’s dad, I guess,” she answered through a bite of her sandwich. She finished it in three bites, as always. “How about you?”

“Oh, I uh...I didn’t really think about inviting anyone.”

“Oh, Killian, are they all back home in England? I’m sorry, that’s gotta be lonely.”

And Killian could have simply agreed - his parents and his brother were, after all, buried back home in England. But he felt like there was something Emma wasn’t telling him about The Past, and the only way to get her to open up might be to open up first.

He hesitated - what if she felt sorry for him? What if she wasn’t actually hiding anything and he exposed this part of him for nothing?

“I haven’t got anyone, Swan.” He let the words tumble out before he could over think it.

She froze, a chip in her hand, halfway to her mouth. She looked at him, green eyes meeting blue, and for a moment she looked angry.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what it sounds like. My parents uh...they died a long time ago. And my brother a few years back. So, as I said, I haven’t got anyone.”

She softened a bit, threw the chip into her mouth, and nodded.

“Me neither.”

His heart broke. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, Emma Swan telling him that she was as alone as he was certainly didn’t top the list. It didn’t even  _make_  the list.

He watched her as she stared at the vending machines, the ceiling, her bag of chips, anywhere but at him. He wanted her to continue but he didn’t want to push her.

If she wanted to tell him, she would.

“I grew up in the foster care system.” She spoke so quickly that the sentence came out sounding more like one word. She took a breath, slowing down. “I aged out of it and moved in with Neal right when I turned 18. I don’t have anyone either, Killian. Except Neal, I guess.”

“Well, you’ve got me, Swan. I promise you that.”

She finally looked at him, a small smile pulling up the corners of her lips.

“Thanks.”

How about that. Killian had talked about The Past and it hadn’t killed him.

After lunch, he headed back to his desk to find a wrapped gift box on it.

“What’s this, then?” he asked David.

David cleared his throat awkwardly and turned so he was facing Killian.

“It’s a small token of appreciation. Mary Margaret and I had a nice time the other night. I’ll admit, I thought perhaps you were setting me up for something cruel, as you usually are, but it seems you’re capable of nice actions as well. So, thank you.”

Killian was a bit shocked at that, but opened the gift nonetheless. It was a small toy sheep. David laughed when he opened it - not his usual short, almost mean-sounding laugh, but a small chuckle, and when Killian looked, he was full-on grinning. He glanced over at accounting and Mary Margaret was watching them, a pleased smile on her face as well.

He glanced towards his cohort at reception and, sure enough, she was holding up a matching sheep with a grin on her face.

Not a bad day to be Killian Jones.

His stroke of luck continued into Regina’s pointless meeting later that afternoon. It was the end of the day, he was tired, staring into space. And suddenly, there was a literal weight on his shoulder.

He turned and saw blonde curls, close enough for him to kiss, though he fought the urge. He smiled and with little to distract him, his mind got away from him.

He was on his couch in his apartment, the TV showing some old Disney movie at a low volume. Emma’s head was on his shoulder, her legs curled up beneath her. Her grip on his hand loosened as she fell asleep, but their fingers remained linked together. This time, he did kiss the top of her head. She stirred slightly, curling herself closer to him. He picked her up, slowly. She half-groaned, half-sighed, but allowed him to hold her the whole way to the bedroom. He laid her down on his bed, the left side, of course. He took up his usual spot on the right, crawling under the sheets and tucking her in with him. She opened her eyes slowly, exhaustion mixing with excitement. Her lips parted, and she spoke.

“Killian?” She asked.

But it wasn’t her, it was Regina. The meeting had ended and she was staring at him. She glanced at the blonde head on his shoulder, raised an eyebrow, and walked out quietly.

Killian allowed himself a few extra moments in his current position, letting himself drift between fantasy and reality. The conference room was quiet, the office behind him filled with muttered goodbyes as people headed out for the day.

“Hey,” he whispered, and she was up. She glanced up at him, remembering where she was. Her cheeks flushed that glorious shade of red and she walked out without a word.

Not a bad day at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, I know. The next one's longer (and better), I promise ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Family Day was just as cheesy and awful as Killian expected.

It was basically just an over-sized picnic, with a few advertisement booths and some activities for kids. There was a huge barbecue set up next to a sand-pit with a volleyball net hung across it. 

Very cheesy. Very SPC. At least it’d landed on an unseasonably warm day in November.

Killian sat at one of the picnic tables, unsure why he’d come, and very strongly considering leaving, when he felt a presence arrive next to him.

“Come on, Jones, it’s not so bad,” Emma sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

“If I had kids, maybe, Swan. But other than that, it seems this was just a cheap ploy to get our families to enter to win new cars and cruise trips and the like. And, as previously mentioned, I haven’t got any family to speak of.”

“Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean you don’t have family. At least you had someone, you know?”

They sat in silence for a moment, Killian pondering Emma’s words, Emma looking slightly surprised she’d even said them.

“You’re right, Emma. I’m doing a great disservice to my brother by acting as though I’ve been alone my whole life. I’d be a much worse man if it weren’t for him. Thank you for reminding me.”

He smiled at her, making sure she knew he was being truthful, and not edging his words in sarcasm. She seemed to understand, a small smile forming.

“Where’s Neal, then? You said you were going to invite his father, didn’t you?”

“He didn’t come. Neither of them did. Neal’s dad is flaky, to say the least, so I sort of already knew he wouldn’t actually come, despite accepting my invitation. Neal didn’t want to waste his Saturday here. I can’t say I blame him." 

“Aye, understood. Then what brings you here, madam? Decided to grace us with your presence, despite a fiancé waiting for you at home?”

“I’ve told you, I like seeing my co-workers in their natural habitat. Well, not that this is natural by any means, but it’s not the office anyway. Plus, I figured you’d be here, and I couldn’t have you wallowing in self-pity by yourself.”

“I’m not wallowing, Swan.”

“You were until I get here.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she momentarily silenced him with a wink.

“Well, at any rate, I’m glad you showed up. I’ve been watching our Prince Charming and Snow White. They’re trying to hide it from everyone, but look,” he pointed to the lake, where two figures stood holding hands and skipping rocks.

Emma laughed, and Killian watched her observing them.

“Yeah, we did a good thing there. I’m glad we did it.”

“Aye, me too.”

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe grab a bite to eat from somewhere other than that giant, ancient barbecue grill?”

“Please.”

They found themselves at the same Italian place they’d gone to on Killian’s first day at the office. He figured she had to remember, had to know that it was special for that reason, but he didn’t say anything.

“I think Neal’s cheating on me.”

Killian nearly choked on his sweet potato fries. They’d only just gotten their food, sitting at a real table this time instead of the bar. He’d known something was up when Emma hadn’t immediately reached for the pile of fries on the plate in the middle of the table, but he hadn’t expected it to be _that_.

“Sorry, I know, I totally shouldn’t be talking to you about this. Forget I said anything.”

“No, Swan. You absolutely should be talking to me about this. That’s what friends are for, as they say. You can talk to me about anything. And, before you continue, Neal’s a fool for even making you _think_ he’s being disloyal, never mind if he actually is.”

She exhaled a huge breath she must have been holding the whole time he spoke. She eyed him carefully, grabbed a fistful of fries, and spoke while she ate.

As usual.

“It’s just, I mean, we’ve been engaged three years, right? And he’s never been able to set a date. I’ve tried, but it’s always too soon or too far away or he doesn’t want to get married in June because that’s cheesy or he doesn’t think his family can fly out here for that date. And now he’s been out late. Like, a lot. He goes to his dad’s sometimes, I guess, and he keeps him there late. But it’s been almost three nights a week now. Neal doesn’t even like his dad that much. He moved out when he was 16. I can’t imagine what he’d be doing with him now.”

“Have you talked to him about this, love?” There it was, the nickname again. If she noticed, she didn’t let on.

“I can’t talk to him.”

“You can’t talk to your fiancé? You know there’s usually conversation in a relationship, Swan.”

He’d gone too far with that one, and he knew it. He saw the dark flash in her eyes before she opened her mouth, but he still wasn’t ready for her anger.

“What do you even know about relationships, Killian? I’ve known you three years and I’ve never even heard you talk about a date. So, yes, I know how relationships work. Do you? Is that why you’re so obsessed with Mary Margaret and David? To live out some sick fantasy because you haven’t got a relationship of your own? Well, you know what, Killian? You’re on your own. I never should have come to you with this. I thought you’d listen and understand and maybe help me come to my senses or something, not that you’d insult my entire relationship. Is that what friends are for then?”

He was shocked. He knew not all of this anger was really for him, knew most of it was re-directed anger at Neal. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Aye, Swan, you’re right. It seems I don’t know much of anything, do I? I’ll see you Monday.” He left a handful of bills on the table and walked out.

“Killian, wait. Killian--” but he was already out the door. He wasn’t mad at her - never that - but he needed some time to clear his head. And all Emma Swan seemed to do was cloud his judgment.

A few hours later, he was lying in his bed, her words echoing in his head.

_You’re on your own._

_What do you even know about relationships?_

_I never should have come to you with this._

His chest hurt, his head ached. Liam’s smile wavered in his picture on the dresser.

He was nearly asleep, falling into an endless loop of Emma yelling at him, when his phone buzzed. He jumped up so quickly he nearly fell off the bed.

 

  

Outside?

Good Lord, she was at his apartment.

“How, exactly, do you know where I live?” Killian asked, but there was laughter behind his words.

“I set Mary Margaret up on a fantastic blind date, in case you haven’t heard. She was more than willing to share your address with me.”

“Seems like abuse of power to me. I’ll have to have a chat with Regina about her head of accounting.”

“Killian, I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“No reason to be sorry, love. I’m a big boy, I’m fine.”

“You shouldn’t be fine. I said some really nasty things to you, and you didn’t deserve them. I’m just...not good at hearing bad things. Especially when they’re true.”

He didn’t say anything to that. He just watched her. She kicked a rock at the bottom of the steps and then, noticing the silence, finally looked up at him.

“Can we sit?” She sounded so small and scared. He wanted to hold her and tell her that no matter what was going on, they’d find a way to get through it. Together.

But of course, there was that ring on her finger.

“Of course, love.” They sat, side by side, on the bottom step.

“Neal was the only person who was ever there for me. He was - is - consistent. If nothing else, he’s that. When I was 16 and I transferred to his high school, he was my first real friend. He cared about me, took me under his wing. He looked out for me, made sure I always had a place to go when my foster dad came home drunk. We did everything together. And then we graduated and things got romantic. When I finally turned 18, it just made sense for me to move in with him. I had no family, I was out of the system. Neal was _safe_ and he was easy and he was there. Neal knows me, inside and out. And I really hope he’s not cheating - truly - and the reason I can’t talk to him is because I don’t know what I’d do if I found out he was.”

Killian chewed on that for a moment. That was an overwhelming amount of information to swallow, but at least now he understood why on earth a perfect creature like Emma Swan would bother with a cretin like Neal Gold.

“Killian, please say something.”

“I think you should talk to your fiancé. If he is cheating, then you need to know now. If he’s not, then you’re worrying over nothing. And trust me, I know better than most what it means to rebuild your whole life, Swan. If I could do it, so can you. And, as previously promised, you’ve always got me.”

She looked over at him, staring right through his eyes and into his heart, his soul, his core. She glanced down at his lips for a moment - so quick he almost missed it.

“You’re right. I should talk to him.”

“Call me after, if you’d like. Or text. Or I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay. Thanks, Killian.”

“Of course, love,” he stood and turned to head inside.

“Oh, and Killian?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not on your own. I know...I know I said that earlier. But, you’re never on your own. You’ve got me.”

“I’ll remember that, Swan.”

“Do.”

He fell asleep that night thinking of blonde curls on his shoulder and green eyes staring at him and what would have happened if he’d kissed her when she glanced at his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of having the text conversation in here like this. I was playing around with the idea and thought it could be cool, but I won't be offended if you guys think it looks silly ;)
> 
> Just a reminder, my Tumblr is awkwardnessandbaseball.
> 
> Also if any of you readers are artistically inclined, and want to do any sort of artwork for this story, please reach out! I'd love to get some going :)


	6. Chapter 6

Neal wasn’t cheating, of course. He said he was working with his father on some huge project for his father’s girlfriend that Emma didn’t get into details about. And she believed him, so Killian had no reason not to.

Well, good. Killian didn’t want to see Emma marry Neal, but he didn’t want to see her hurt, either. 

It seemed everyone in the office was in good spirits that Monday, especially Regina. And when Regina was extra-happy, that meant conference room meetings went extra-long.

Just after the two-hour mark, it took a very strange turn. 

“And finally, I’d like to announce to you all that I’ve started seeing someone new. I know, I know, you all can’t believe I’m still single. But he seems like a good one,” she winked at that, and Killian bit back a groan. “I met him this weekend, and he’ll be by tomorrow to visit!”

“Your boyfriend is coming in to visit?” Emma sounded incredulous, especially considering her own fiancé worked downstairs. Although, Killian supposed, Neal never visited her from two flights of stairs away, so perhaps her reaction was justified in a different way.

“Well, I think it’s a bit soon to use ‘boyfriend,’ Miss Swan, but yes.”

“My father’s coming to visit tomorrow,” Mary Margaret spoke up. “Couldn’t your boyfriend visit a different day?”

“Um…not exactly.” Killian had never seen Regina blush like this.

“Regina, why can’t--” and then Mary Margaret’s face turned bright red and she looked like she'd just solved a challenging crossword puzzle clue. “You said you met him this weekend, Regina?”

“Yes, I--”

“Where did you meet him?” Oh, no.

“Well--”

“Was it at Family Day, Regina?” Mary Margaret was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry. Killian watched David rub circles on her back, but she shook him off.

“It um--,” but Regina couldn’t get a word out, never mind a sentence.

“REGINA, ARE YOU DATING MY FATHER?”

“Mary Margaret, I--”

And now Killian and Emma were both doubled over in tears in their corner of the conference room. They knew it probably wasn’t a laughing matter, but they just…couldn’t…help it!

Regina overstepped her boundaries often, involving herself in conversations across the office, moving the water cooler closer to her door, once, so she could hear all the gossip. But this was something entirely different.

Mary Margaret stormed out of the conference room, David two steps behind her. He stopped by the door.

“Fix this, Regina. This is too far.”

The other people in the room - whom Regina seemed to have forgotten were there - mumbled in agreement.

“Oh, hush. I’m allowed to date whoever I want! I’m a grown woman.”

She stormed out, slamming the door to her own office.

“I’ve never been so thankful to not have parents,” Emma whispered to Killian.

“Aye, Swan, I was just thinking the same.”

Thirty minutes later, David had coaxed Mary Margaret back inside, and the two of them were trying to have a civil conversation with Regina in her office. ‘Trying’ being the operative word. Regina had closed all of the blinds in her office, as if not being able to see would somehow stop everyone from listening in.

It was a few minutes before five when Mary Margaret couldn’t keep her voice down anymore.

“STOP DATING MY FATHER!”

“I’M GONNA DATE HIM EVEN HARDER!” Regina screamed back, the sound echoing as Mary Margaret stormed out of her office. Everyone - Killian included - was staring.

“I’m heading out a few minutes early. I’ll see you all tomorrow. David, would you please grab my coat from my desk?”

“Sure, babe.” All attempts at subtlety were out the window after today’s events, apparently.

Killian started gathering his things, eager to get out of the tension-filled office.

“Hey, Killian, do you have a minute?”

“Always, Swan. What can I do for you?” So much for being eager to leave.

“I just wanted to thank you. For Saturday night. I’ve never really told anyone, besides Neal, about, you know. My past. And then to just lay it all on you like that, between lunch the other day and then Saturday night...it was a lot. And you’re still here. And I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Emma. I promised you that.”

She smiled at that and before he knew what was happening, she was hugging him. Her arms around his neck, her hair below his chin. He wrapped his arms around her in response, breathing in very slowly, cherishing--

“Hey! What the hell is this? Are you trying to cop a feel?”

Neal.

“Neal, no! Neal, stop!” Emma was yelling and before Killian knew what was happening, she was ripped away from him.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, man?”

“Nothing, mate, I--”

“I’m not your mate.”

“Aye, apologies. It’s just been a bit of an awkward day here, and Emma was thanking me for er… for getting her through it, I suppose.”

Neal spun on his heel, forcing himself into Emma’s limited space. He’d nearly thrown her against the wall in his anger at Killian, and now she was trapped there.

“That true?”

“Yeah, just some stuff came up, about parents. And I was just...you were downstairs, so I talked to Killian. He was just being a friend. That’s all.”

Neal turned back towards Killian, and Emma moved away from the wall, back behind her desk.

“She told you, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Then she told you that I was there for her? For the past, like, five years? So, you know, she doesn’t really need anyone else. Okay? Got it?”

“Aye, ma--Neal. Understood.”

“Good, let’s go.”

Emma gave him a small wave as Neal practically dragged her out the door.

“And I thought I’d had a dreadful day.” Regina was next to him now.

“Yeah well, perhaps it’s contagious.”

“Do you think I’m wrong? To be dating Mary Margaret’s father?”

“Well, why are you dating him?”

“I don’t know. He seems nice. He approached me at the picnic and complimented me. He paid attention to me. Is that awful?”

“No, Regina. It’s normal to want attention. But maybe ask yourself if that’s all that’s there. I know you only met him a few days ago. Get to know him. But just be aware that Mary Margaret is going to be watching your every move.”

“True.”

“But you’re allowed to put your happiness first. That’s okay.”

Regina glanced towards the door Emma had just exited through, and then looked at Killian knowingly.

“So are you.” 

Later that evening, he wasn’t surprised when his phone buzzed just before he fell asleep.

 

 

Killian wondered when exactly he and Emma had turned to texting as a regular form of communication. What an interesting development that was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some little 'Office' scenes I wanted to sneak in there :) I'm so looking forward to your thoughts!
> 
> Also, casually seeking a beta for this story. As it gets longer, I'd love someone to make sure I'm keeping myself and my characters in check! Comment or message me, or reach out on Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Regina’s romance with Mr. Blanchard didn’t last long. It turned out he was looking for a trophy wife and Regina Mills was, in her own words, not trophy wife material, thank you very much. Truthfully, she handled the breakup much better than the beginnings of the romance. Mary Margaret was relieved, and work was back to normal.

Mostly.

Truthfully, Killian was bored. He was bored and he was frustrated, and he needed something to do. Emma was away for a week, some camping trip with Neal, so he needed something else to occupy his time.

“Hey, Victor.”

Victor startled and closed his internet browser when Killian approached.

“What’s up, Killy?”

Killian bit back his retort and simply smiled.

“Ah, I was just thinking of going out with some friends for a drink and some pool tonight, thought maybe you’d wanna go.”

“Me?”

Victor Whale was an intern. He was less committed to this job than anyone, and that was really saying something. He wasted his own time, and often other people’s time. He was constantly cooking up business schemes that never went anywhere, and rumor had it that he was only still employed at SPC because Regina owed him some kind of favor.

Weird.

“Yes, mate, you. I’m at your desk, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, I just...no one really invites me anywhere. Just an intern, and all.”

That was hardly why he never got invited anywhere, but Killian moved on.

“Well, I thought it was high time someone did. So, are you in?”

“Sure, where?”

“The Rabbit Hole, 9PM.”

“See you there.”

A few hours later, so as not to seem obvious, Killian headed back to the annex.

“Hey Ruby.”

“Hey Killian!!! Did you watch Say Yes to the Dress last night? I know you didn’t. I’m going to tell you what happened though, because it was so good. So, this girl goes in with her mom and her future mother-in-law, and they all have such different ideas for how the dress should look, it’s crazy. So, the bride, you know, the most important one, hello, is like stuck in the middle. And every time she finds a dress she likes, one of the moms doesn’t. So finally--”

“Oh, don’t spoil it for me, Rubes!”

“OH! Sorry! I didn’t think you watched!”

He didn’t.

“I actually came over here to see if you play pool.”

“Sure!”

“A few friends and I are going out tonight, to the Rabbit Hole. Thought maybe you’d like to come.”

“Is this, like, a date?”

“No, Ruby. I don’t date co-workers; purely asking platonically. Although if you find anyone there interesting, feel free to ask them on as many dates as you’d like.”

Ruby gave him a wolfish grin at that.

“Deal!”

“See you at 9 then.”

Swan was going to be so pissed when she got back and found out he’d done this one without her.

He should have known, of course, that Ruby had the biggest mouth on this side of the Atlantic.

 

 

Later that evening, he was surprised to find Victor waiting for him. It was only 5 of, but he figured Victor for a ‘casually late’ kind of guy. He was also surprised to find that Victor cleaned up pretty nicely. Not that the business button ups and ties required at work weren’t cleaned up, but this was different. He wore a soft t-shirt with a faded band logo on it and black jeans. He’d put some type of product in his hair. It was meant to look effortless, but clearly took quite a bit of effort. Still, Killian was impressed.

“You look better casual than you do in ties, Whale,” he told him as he waved the bartender over.

“Yeah, well, trust me. If I could dress like this all the time I--” Victor stopped short, staring at the doorway Killian had just walked through moments earlier. Killian turned his head to see what had gotten Victor’s attention.

Wow.

Forget what Killian said about Victor cleaning up nice. Compared to Ruby, he was covered in dirt, soot, and grime. The girl was a knockout. At work, she definitely toed the line of the dress code as often as possible, keeping her skirts just a half inch too short and her tops cut just a quarter inch too low. She was good at her job running the customer service department, so no one questioned it, so long as she wasn’t a distraction.

_This_ would have been a distraction.

Ruby was wearing an unbuttoned red flannel over a black crop top. She wore low rise, dark denim short shorts and knee-high boots. She was...hot. There was no other word for it. Her hair, which she usually tied back in a series of complicated braids and curls, ran straight down her back. She’d put on red lipstick to match the flannel and the highlights in her hair, which Killian had never noticed before.

If this were three or four years prior, Killian would have been all over her. As it was, he was here for a mission. One he didn’t intend to deter from.

“Ruby! Over here!” he called.

“What are you doing!?” Victor hissed.

“Um...calling Ruby over to join us.” Killian was confused.

“She’s obviously here to meet someone, why would you--”

“Hey guys! Can’t believe I made it! I almost had to bail - Granny was trying to rope me into working a shift at the diner, but I told her, no way, Jose, I’ve got plans with the boys tonight! Where are your friends, Killian?”

“Oh uh, funny story, that. They’ve all dropped out, one by one. Just the three of us, it seems. Ruby, don’t take this the wrong way, but aren’t you positively freezing?”

“I’m warm-blooded as they come, Jones, don’t you worry about me.” She winked and flashed that toothy grin again, and Killian couldn’t help but laugh.

Victor was staring daggers at the back of Killian’s head, he could feel it.

“Hey, Victor! Wow, you look really good. I love _Yellowcard_ , too! Great tee - looks like it’s from one of their early tours, right?”

“Um...yeah. So bummed they broke up. Did you go to their last show?”

“Yes! Ugh, it was so incredible. I hope they do a reunion tour. We could go together!”

A bit of a premature plan, Killian noted, but he loved Ruby's enthusiasm.

“Oh. Yeah. Definitely. You look...wow. By the way.”

“Thanks!" She waved him off, like she knew, and like she didn't dress that way for him anyway, but for herself. "Hey, are we gonna shoot some pool or what?”

“Ah, you know what, pool’s much better with an even number. I’ll bow out this round. I’ll buy the first round of drinks, you two start up.”

Killian sat at the bar while Ruby pretended not to know how to play pool. It was ridiculous, really. These two were both so obviously interested in each other, it was like a romantic comedy playing out before Killian’s eyes. Was he even doing anything at all, when the couples he was putting together really just needed the smallest push?

He ordered two beers and two shots to be delivered to the pool table and quietly snuck out without a goodbye: an Irish exit, as it were. On his way out, Killian stopped by the electronic jukebox to play twenty minutes worth of _Yellowcard_.

He heard Ruby’s squeal from the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship Ruby with a lot of people, but Ruby/Victor felt like a really good Kelly/Ryan, to me (although they won't be dramatic like Kelly/Ryan, I'll tell you now). Looking forward to your thoughts!
> 
> Also, still seeking a beta for this story! Message me here or on tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers who enjoy BOTH The Office & OUAT will like this chapter, I think :)

Where Mary Margaret and David were quiet and subtle, Victor and Ruby were in everyone’s faces about their relationship.

Ruby left the annex at least once an hour to visit Victor in the main part of the office, and he visited her twice as often. For a guy who had spent the past eight months of his internship spending all his time looking in the mirror, he certainly learned quickly how to pay attention to someone else.

It didn’t hurt that Ruby was one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen, as he told Killian repeatedly.

“Seriously, man, I owe you one. I never would have asked her out, you know? I didn’t think we had anything in common. But it turns out, we get along really well. Plus, she’s just as obsessed with me as I am,” he winked and left Killian to wonder if he’d created a monster...or two monsters.

“Another good deed by one Killian Jones,” Emma called from her spot at reception.

“All a part of a day’s work, Swan. I promise I’ll invite you, too, next time.”

“Oh, there’s a next time?”

“There’s always a next time.”

“Attention everyone! I’ve got great news!” Regina appeared behind Killian, drawing all of the attention to herself, as she was wont to do. “This year’s Storybrooke Paper Company retreat is….can I get a drumroll?”

Silence.

“You’re all no fun. It’s a booze cruise!”

_That_ got everyone’s attention.

“You’re serious?” Emma had never looked so excited at work in all the years Killian Jones had known her.

“Yes! We’ll be sailing the Tigelaar River. We leave straight from here tomorrow, carpooling is encouraged. You may bring _one_ guest, no children of course.”

The chatter in the office grew to such a high volume that Killian could scarcely hear himself think, never mind make any sales calls. So instead, he did what he always did when he was avoiding work: he made his way to Emma’s desk. She finished typing out a text on her phone before looking up at him.

“Excited about tomorrow night, Swan?” He could tell she was, her face was practically glowing, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course! I love sailing, even if this isn’t quite the same thing. Aren’t you? Booze, the water, watching our co-workers get drunk and stupid. Seems like a thing to be excited about. Even Neal’s excited and you know he never gets excited about anything.”

“Ah, sailing used to be a part of my life, but no more. I may sit this one out, truthfully.”

“No way, Killian, you can’t! Who am I going to make fun of people with?”

“Your fiancé, perhaps?”

“He’s not as fun as you.” She looked like she wanted to take it back as soon as she said it. But she couldn’t. The words were out there, floating between them, across her desk and her computer and her candy jar and right into Killian’s ears and bones and heart. He tried to keep his smile at a normal wattage, but inside, he counted this as a huge victory for himself.

“Well, when you put it like that, Swan, how’s a man to say no?”

She grinned, trying to act like she’d been joking, but her cheeks were still flushed and Killian knew she hadn’t been.

The air was freezing cold on Tigelaar River - it was nearly February, and the prospect of booze on the company’s dime seemed to have caused everyone to forget that. Until they started arriving in many, many layers and heading straight for said booze, hoping to warm their insides at the very least.

Killian sat at the bar, hoping he could have one glass of rum, just to warm him up, and that seeing Emma and Neal together all evening wouldn’t make him want to drink an entire bottle.

Victor and Ruby were taking up the entire dance floor, eager to show off their still-new relationship status, but also seeming to genuinely enjoy each other. Mary Margaret and David sat on the same side of a corner booth, staring out the window at the sunset.

He’d done that. Killian had made all of that happen. He was good for something, after all.

“Killian, come sit with us!” Oh no.

“Ah, I don’t want to impose, Swan. Seems a romantic event, wouldn’t want to be your third wheel,” he raised his rum glass in a ‘cheers’ motion.

“Killian, the whole office is here, it’s not exactly romantic.”

_Tell that to Nolan and Blanchard_ , Killian thought to himself. But, as he always did with Emma Swan, he gave in.

“Fine, fine, here I am. You happy?”

“Very,” she beamed at him.

“Neal,” Killian nodded at him.

“Jones.” It wasn’t friendly, but it wasn’t menacing, at the very least. He must have gotten a stern talking to from the missus.

Ugh, not the missus. Not yet, anyway.

It didn’t take long for Neal to join his warehouse co-workers in some ridiculous drinking game, leaving Emma all by her lonesome in the booth with Killian.

“Do you want to get some air?” She was looking at him with a slight glassiness to her eyes - a drink or two deep, he suspected. He thought he saw mischief there, too.

“As you wish.”

“Sometimes I just don’t get Neal,” she admitted as soon as they were hit in the face with the cold breeze from the lake. He wondered how long she’d been waiting to get him alone to talk about this. “Like, we’ve been together forever, and he’s...he’s like, all I know, you know? He was always the mature one, the one with his own place - he was emancipated when he was 16 - the one with a full-time job, and money, and a car. He was the one with the plans. He just...never follows through with any of them.” She glanced down at her left hand on the last sentence. “And now he’s in there, like, drinking and being stupid and not even spending time with me.”

“Well, I imagine every relationship goes through bits like that, don’t you think? Periods of misunderstandings or lacks in communication.”

“It just feels like this ‘bit’ has lasted a long time.”

“Are you happy, Swan?” He looked right at her, daring her to be honest with him, or at least with herself.

Instead, she dropped her glass.

“Swan! Emma, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Killian, I just...it slipped, and... oh…”

Her palm was bleeding. She’d bent to pick up the glass - foolish girl, and she’d sliced her palm clean open somehow.

“Give me your hand,” he was already formulating a plan. He knew she wouldn’t want the attention of the entire office, wouldn’t want medical personnel from the cruise’s staff to have to assist her.

Luckily, he’d learned a thing or two from Liam.

“What?”

“Your hand -- it’s cut. Let me help you.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” It quite obviously was not fine. Emma Swan, stubborn as ever. He swore he didn’t understand himself sometimes; his taste in women seemed questionable. But then she looked at him with those green eyes and, ah, there it was. The reason he loved her was right there, behind those.

“No, it’s not.”

“What, so now you’re a gentleman?” She was trying to laugh through the pain.

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan.” He looked at her again, trying to convey a million things with his eyes alone. The way she blinked made him think maybe he had. She gave him her hand.

He felt despair at his next move, but it had to be done. He poured the contents of his glass onto her hand.

“AH! OW! What is that?” She was trying to pull her hand back, but he held tight.

“It’s rum. A bloody waste of it.” He winked at her, trying to lighten the mood, trying to keep her mind off the cut and, if he were being honest, on him instead.

“Now what?”

“Now we need to wrap this up.”

“Sorry to be wasting so much of your time, Jones.”

“No, Emma, not this moment, this cut.”

“Ah, silly me,” he could hear the smile in her voice while he thought about how to make a dressing quickly.

“This will have to do,” he bit down on his fraying scarf and tore it in half.

“Killian!”

“It was a raggedy old thing. It’s torn in more places than I can count. It would have torn on its own by the time this winter is over. Let me wrap your wound, Swan.”

She was quiet as she watched him work. He placed his cocktail napkin directly over the cut, and then wrapped the scarf around her hand to hold it tight. It wasn’t particularly pretty, and the fraying blue fabric didn’t match the green of her dress, but it would have to do.

“Thank you,”

“Anytime, milady.”

“Emma? Emma they’re looking for you!” It was Regina.

“Coming!” She looked at Killian with the same intensity he was feeling. “Thanks, again, for...you know.” She waved her hand at him.

“Of course.”

He followed her inside. He thought about how, in all this time, he’d never really considered that maybe she didn’t even know how he felt. How maybe she thought Neal was her only option, her safe bet. And maybe he should just get the guts to tell her. He had just enough rum in his system, just enough adrenaline from what had happened outside. Tonight was the night.

“March 5th,” Neal was saying – or slurring, more like – into the microphone at the front of the room. “I’m tired of waiting, so let’s do this. For real. March 5th. Next year. We’ll plan the wedding of the century, what do you say?”

“YES!” And Emma was in Neal’s arms, Killian long forgotten. There were congratulatory shots handed out and Killian grabbed a few extra for good measure.

Regina found him outside.

“What are you doing? Emma’s your best friend, you should be in there celebrating with her, not freezing to death out here.”

“I love her.”

“I know, I just said she’s your best friend--”

“No, Regina. I’m in love with Emma. I can’t celebrate her horrid fiancé finally picking a date. That makes it so real. These last three years, I’ve been able to pretend it wasn’t happening. Never an end in sight to that engagement. And now….”

“It’s a year away, Killian. A lot can happen in a year.” Killian noted there was no surprise in her voice at his confession.

“What are you saying?”

“You think I don’t see the way you two look at each other? Killian, Emma isn’t meant to be with Neal. Just as I wasn’t meant to be with Daniel, or Leo, or anyone else I’ve dated. She’ll find her meant to be. And so will you. And, if you’re lucky, it will be at the same time, together.”

She was rambling and she knew it, but Killian understood her point nonetheless.

“Are you telling me to go for it?”

“I’m telling you not to give up. Engaged ain’t married!” She turned serious, then. “My mother told me quite a bit about you. She said there were things about your interview I didn’t need to know, whatever that means, but she said you were a person who might need a push every now and again. So, consider this your push. Enjoy the rest of the evening, Jones.”

He did not, in fact, enjoy the rest of his evening, but he did survive his first time out on the water since Liam’s passing, and that was something at least. They arrived back at the docks at nearly midnight.

Killian didn’t dream of anything that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to see your thoughts :) Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter today :)

Before Killian knew it, it was Valentine’s Day. He expected to hate it more than usual that year, figuring Neal would be showering Emma with gifts to celebrate their new wedding date being made official. 

Instead, nothing came. 

Killian watched as Ruby received a teddy bear and kissed Victor very passionately and publicly in thanks. He saw David quietly add a clearly homemade picture frame to his desk and Mary Margaret showing off a new necklace hanging over her cardigan. He saw the desk at reception remain mysteriously empty.

Well, he couldn’t have that.

“Delivery for Emma Swan?”

“That’s...that’s me,” she sounded shocked. Killian smirked and continued to stare at his computer screen.

It wasn’t much, just a stuffed swan he’d found on some delivery website.

“Is there a card then, Swan? We’re all dying to know who your gift is from.”

“‘From one swan to another, Happy Valentine’s Day,’” she read aloud. “Neal wouldn’t have come up with something so kitschy - it must have been pre-written. Still, what a cute little gift. And here I’d thought he’d forgotten what day it was again.”

Killian turned away, stared at the phone, willing it to ring, to distract him.

“Killian, can I see you in my office, please?”

Regina had taken a special interest in Killian since the cruise. She felt a bit sorry for him, though he knew she’d never say so. She wanted him happy, that much was clear, and she worried he’d never be happy if he kept silent over ‘this whole Emma situation’, as she so lovingly called it.

“You sent the swan.”

“Is that a question or an accusation?”

“Neither. It’s a fact. And now she thinks it’s from Neal, right? Are you going to correct her?”

“No, Regina, I’m not. She’s happy. That’s what matters.”

“You’re a fool, Jones.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he snapped as he opened the door.

“What was that about?” Emma whispered from her desk. He waved her off; he couldn’t look at her. He’d tell her the swan was from him. He knew he would. And he didn’t want to. Well, he wanted to, desperately; wanted to tell her the swan was from him because he hated seeing that crease between her brows grow deeper and deeper as the gift from Neal never came. He wanted to tell her that he’d loved her for too long, watched her on too many gift-less Valentine’s Days and he was sick of it, dammit, so he sent her the swan.

And so he didn’t talk to her at all.

 

The text came hours after the work day had ended, while Killian cooked his dinner with the TV on low volume in the background.

 

Damn.

Killian was going to have to tell her. He knew that much. Not just because in just over a year, she’d be a married woman, and he’d never have another shot. But because now, she had to have some clue. He’d gotten her a gift for a romantic holiday, had tried to pass it off as though it wasn’t from him. She’d want answers. And the only ones he had involved his being in love with her.

Double damn.

He’d tied the rest of Liam’s old scarf around his bed post. It was unwearable now, half of it having been donated to wrap Emma’s wound with on that fateful cruise, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. Not much for sentimental things, except when it came to his brother. At least now the scarf could serve as some sort of decoration for his plain bedroom. It was a contrast to the bare white walls and plain wooden bed. It reminded him a bit of a flag, and he thought Liam may have liked that.

He also thought Liam may have liked Emma, and tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d never know for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, a new character is introduced 0:-) Theories?
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	10. Chapter 10

As the weather got warmer, Regina found more excuses to go outside. Mandatory thirty-minute walks for team building, picnics on her dime, anything she could come up with. Regina thrived on warm weather.

Killian strongly suspected that Regina was at the end of her rope when it came to her HR rep, Tracy Blue. Regina had never been secretive about her dislike of the woman, or of Human Resources as a whole. And Killian noticed that going outside also meant that poor Blue had to stay inside and man the phones while everyone else got to enjoy the weather.

“You know, Regina, occasionally someone else might want to stay inside.”

“Everyone else is part of the team, Tracy, and so everyone else wants to go outside for team building exercises.”

“I’m part of the--,”

“No, you’re part of corporate. Not part of my branch. Your desk is here and you, unfortunately, are here, but you don’t work for me, you work for corporate.”

“Which means I work for your mother.”

“Yes, I’m well aware, but thank you for reminding me how companies run.”

By the end of April, Blue had had enough.

“I’ve requested a transfer. I’ll be working in Arendelle beginning Monday. Are you happy now, Regina?”

“I’ve been better, Blue, but thank you for checking,” Regina called from her office, glaring at Blue’s back as she headed back through the kitchen to the annex.

“Why on Earth aren’t you happy, Regina? What more could you want? You chased the poor woman out of here with bags packed and running shoes on!” Killian closed the office door behind him.

“It’s not Blue, in particular, that I hate. It’s HR. I feel like every HR rep who’s ever worked here has been a spy for my mother. Like she sends little fairies out to do her bidding and make sure I’m behaving myself and all that.”

“That sounds a bit--,”

“Paranoid? I know. But trust me, Jones. There is no one good working in the Human Resources department.”

The following Monday, Arendelle’s former HR rep walked in the door.

“Hello, er...I’m Robin, I’m from HR? I’ve been sent to replace Ms. Blue?”

So much for fairy spies. At a glance, Robin was everything Tracy Blue was not. Where Blue had a permanent scowl on her face, Robin seemed to have far more smile lines etched into his face than frown lines. He looked weathered - Killian knew the look of a man who’d seen the horrors life had to offer - but he also looked like he was still trying to see the best in everything around him. Killian knew that look as well.

He liked him already. He stood to shake his hand, offer to show him to his desk and save Emma the trip, but Regina beat him to it.

“Regina Mills, Regional Manager, Storybrooke Branch. Welcome, Mr. Locke, to Storybrooke.”

Oh, dear.

“Mills? As in, Cora? As in, my boss?”

“The very same. My mother, I’m afraid. She didn’t tell you?”

“No, ma’am. I was hired by Cora’s partner, George. I’ve actually never met the elder Miss Mills. I was just told last week that I’d been transferred. They broke my lease for me back in Arendelle, but I haven’t had time to find a place here yet.”

“Well, let me show you to your desk, and I can certainly give you some suggestions on lovely condominium complexes in the area. I myself own a condo, actually--,”

“Oh my God,” Emma hissed as soon as the kitchen door closed behind them.

“What’s that, Swan?” Killian meandered over to her desk.

“Regina totally has a crush on Robin.”

“The man’s only just arrived!”

“Killian, I am telling you. You weren’t here when she dated Daniel. I know the look on Regina’s face when she’s smitten.”

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“You sound bitter,” she bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. “Don’t like it when someone else chooses the couple?”

“On the contrary, Swan, I love your idea. I’d love to see Regina happy - she does deserve it after all. I just hope you’re not getting ahead of yourself. As I said, the man’s only just arrived. You’ll remember that on the dates I chose, both partners had shown interest.”

“Fine, we’ll wait, like a week.”

He grinned, stuffed some Skittles in his mouth, and headed back to his desk.

Regina didn’t return to her office for an hour.

A week later, it seemed Emma had been right. Regina was in better spirits than he’d seen her...probably ever. She spent an awful lot of time helping Robin settle in, and he certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“Alright, Swan, you win. You chose the couple, you choose the date.”

“I heard him talking about archery the other day with Jefferson. Do you think there’s an archery range around here we could send them to?”

“There is,” a voice squeaked from behind them.

“Mary Margaret?”

“I sometimes go, when I’m frustrated. It helps me relieve stress. David comes sometimes, but he mostly gets mad because I’m better than him.”

“I do not!”

Mary Margaret winked at them.

“Anyway, I don’t know _who_ you’re talking about, but I know what you’re planning on doing, and the archery range is a great idea. It’s right off of Main Street, by the troll bridge.”

“You mean the toll bridge?”

“Nope,” and she was gone.

“Fair enough,” Killian turned back to Emma. “So, how do we get them there?”

“Well, you’ve gotten pretty chummy with Regina, I’d bet you could get her to agree to go even telling her the truth. Robin, though. Hm.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re chummy, Swan.”

“You’re in her office, like, twice a day.”

“I didn’t think you kept up with my schedule so closely,” he grinned at her.

“Focus on the task at hand, Jones. Operation...Robin Hood!”

“Why’s that, exactly?”

“Robin, archer. I dunno, it works, don’t you think?”

“Sure, love. So, how do we get our outlaw to the range, do you think?”

“Oh! I’ve got it. I’ll buy, like, an hour’s worth of time there, and you say you won it or got it as a gift, and it’s about to expire! And you won’t use it, so would he maybe like to!”

“Swan, I do believe I’m rubbing off on you,” his ears reddened at the unintentional innuendo, but if she caught it, she didn’t let on.

“You’ve got competition for the Cupid title, Jones.” She turned to her computer, searching for the range, navigating the site. The printer whined to life as she printed her voucher for one hour of archery. She handed it to him expectantly.

“Alright, Swan, here we go.” She saluted him, a serious look on her face, before he headed back to the annex.

“Ah, Robin! Bit of an odd predicament I’m in.”

“What can I do for you Killian?” And easy smile crossed Robin’s face. He was genuinely a nice man. Killian hoped he’d be good enough for Regina.

“I’ve won this hour of free archery at the range down the street, and it expires today. I’ve got plans, and can’t use it. Think you could take it off my hands?”

Robin’s face lit up.

“Sure! Roland loves the range, it’s our favorite thing to do together.”

“Roland?”

“Ah, yes! My son. He’s five, can barely hold his child’s bow, but he loves coming along nonetheless.”

“Ah, I’d no idea. You’re, er, married then?”

Robin’s face darkened a bit.

“No longer. She passed a few years ago, Roland doesn’t even remember her.”

Killian’s own past flashed before his eyes.

“Sorry to have assumed, mate, and sorry for your loss. I’ll admit to you, I’ve been in Roland’s shoes. He’s lucky to have a father like you. I was not so lucky.”

“Killian, I had no idea.”

“I don’t exactly broadcast my past to the office, you know,” he shrugged, trying to be casual, thankful he’d seen Ruby leaning against Victor’s desk on her way back here. He didn’t need her hearing this. Even Swan didn’t know the specifics.

“Well, I’ll be sure this voucher to good use. Thank you for thinking of me. It was very kind.”

Killian nodded awkwardly and headed back to the main office. He avoided Emma’s expectant look and headed straight into Regina’s office, closing the door behind him softly.

“He has a kid, Regina.”

“I know that, Killian.”

“And you know he’s widowed?”

“He may have mentioned it, yes.”

Killian sighed.

“He’ll be at the archery range tonight. It was Emma’s idea.”

“Am I the next subject of whatever experiment you two are running here?” She said it with a smile, a genuine one.

“We were hoping you would be, yes. He could be good for you.”

“Indeed. And how would I explain my presence there?”

“You live practically around the corner. You’ve been meaning to go there for so long and oh, how odd, you’ve found yourself there at the same time as him.”

“He’ll have Roland.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

“You don’t think that’s too much? It wouldn’t be much of a first date with his son there.”

“You’ve never been conventional, Regina, why should first dates be any different? Besides, you’re great with kids.”

“Am I?”

“I watched you at Family Day. I remember. You know how to talk to them without being condescending. That’s something I’ve never fully mastered.”

“They’re just people, Killian.”

“So I’ve heard. So, go meet a couple of _people_ at the archery range later. I bet you won’t regret it.”

“Someday, Jones, you’re going to set up everyone you know and you won’t have anyone left to set up besides yourself.”

“Ah well, let’s hope that day doesn’t come anytime soon, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you were asking about Robin, so here he is :)
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	11. Chapter 11

Regina was smitten, and as much as Killian wanted to take the credit for it, this one had been all Emma.

She looked smug as could be when Regina and Robin walked in holding hands a few days later.

Killian wandered to her desk, stuffing some jelly beans in his mouth.

“I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”

She grinned at that.

“It feels nice, seeing them like that.”

“Aye, it does.”

“Killian, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, love.” He’d long since quit trying to fight the urge to call her that.

“Why are you always setting other people up? Why don’t you ever go on any dates yourself?”

“Because I’m very particular, Swan. I know what I like, and that’s all I can say.”

She knew he was leaving something out, but she didn’t push, thankfully.

“Alright everyone, I know I ask for your attention quite frequently these days, with all of my team building exercises you all love so much,” there was groaning from the entire staff, but Regina ignored it. “I’m very pleased to announce that the entire Storybrooke Business Park is putting together a casino night, with a twist!”

“Isn’t a casino night already kind of a twist?” Mary Margaret asked, no humor in her voice. It was no surprise that she wasn’t thrilled about an event that involved gambling, straight-laced as she was.

“It’s _themed_ , Mary Margaret!”

“Themed,” Emma repeated. She sounded less than impressed.

“Yes, Miss Swan. Pirates of the Caribbean!”

“Do we have to dress up?” Ruby asked. She was practically vibrating with excitement and squeezing the life out of Victor’s hand, if the pained look on his face was any indication.

“It’s not mandatory, no, but you’re welcome to do so,” Regina was interrupted as Ruby squealed in response, “ _however_ , the dress code still applies, Miss Lucas. And my mother will be there, so no short skirts and low-cut blouses. I mean it. I let you get away with those things, but she will not be so kind.”

“Understood, Regina,” but Ruby’s excitement couldn’t be contained. She squealed again and scampered back to the annex, presumably to shop online for a pirate costume. Likely one with a matching costume for Victor.

“The event will be one week from today. So, practice your poker faces.” She exited the room as quickly as she’d entered it, back to the privacy of her office.

“So, casino night.”

“Aye, so it seems.”

Killian Jones was not good at a great deal of things. He was decent at selling paper, and he was apparently very good at setting couples up on dates. He was good at making Emma Swan laugh, even when she didn’t want to. He was great at blaming himself for things.

Killian Jones was, however, positively excellent at dressing up.

Whatever the occasion called for, Killian could put together. And a pirate themed event was no different.

The following Friday, he rushed home to change for this casino night Regina was so excited about. He suspected her excitement had less to do with the event itself and more to do with the fact that she and Robin were signing their relationship contracts and handing them into Cora. Good for her.

He threw on his tightest pair of black jeans, his old black work boots, a black silk shirt, unbuttoned as far as he felt appropriate for what was, somehow, a work event, and his long black leather coat. It didn’t feel complete, so he stopped at a drugstore on the way back to the business park, ignoring all the strange looks he received, and picked up some eyeliner. Rubbing it over his eyes, in an artful, yet sloppy, way, he felt like a pirate. No peg leg or eye patch, but he’d still make do.

The first thing he saw when he walked into the transformed warehouse was the giant pirate ship. It was a blow-up ship, one meant for children, and with barricades all around it so none of the adults got any ideas. But still, it added a bit to the atmosphere somehow. There were games everywhere - poker, Texas Hold ‘Em, craps, roulette. Killian couldn’t decide. And then he saw a signature blonde ponytail at one of the card tables and he didn’t think anymore.

She had a huge stack of chips in front of her; he should have known she’d be good at this.

He tried to take in the rest of his surroundings before heading straight for her. He saw Ruby in a form-fitting dress, just barely within dress code guidelines, with a silk scarf tied around her head and a scabbard hanging low on her waist. Her signature red and black was prominent in the outfit, and she’d managed to find a costume of the same color scheme for Victor, who looked uncomfortable, but still pleased to be with, as always, the hottest girl he’d ever seen. Regina had opted out of the costume, preferring to dress down in black jeans and a dark purple top. She and Robin were handing thick stacks of paper over to Cora, who somehow managed to look angry and proud at the same time. Mary Margaret and David were, unsurprisingly, absent. There were flashes of light as a few photographers made their way around the room.

Neal, like Nolan and Blanchard, was nowhere in sight, which was not good for Killian. Emma looked particularly ravishing tonight. She wore a blue jerkin and tight khakis tucked into knee high brown boots. Her white top covered what the jerkin didn’t, and she’d completed the look with a scabbard and a fake sword. If he hadn’t already been enamored with her, he surely was now. And Neal was nowhere in sight.

“Swan, you’re looking positively pirate-y this evening.”

“That’s the point, Jones!”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He joined the game at the table, but he was distracted. Something was wrong with Emma, something that hadn’t been that afternoon when he’d left work. He wanted to ask, but he figured she’d tell him in time. She seemed distracted herself, her large pile of chips shrinking each round.

Three hands of cards and two glasses of rum later, she abruptly left, grabbing the majority of her dwindling pile of chips on the way. Killian grabbed one himself before following her.

“Swan! Swan, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Killian. Neal left, and I’m just frustrated. I was having a nice time, but he said it was cheesy and boring, so he left. I’m probably going to head out myself. I’m not having fun anymore.”

“Not even with me,” he tried to smirk at her, stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. But she wasn’t having it.

“Not even with you, Killian. I’m sorry.”

Still, he followed her out.

“Emma, I need to tell you something.” It was unseasonably cold and while his leather jacket kept him insulated, Emma’s chattering teeth indicated that she wasn’t feeling quite as bundled up in her costume.

“Can it wait? I just...I just want to go home.”

“I love you.” The words were out before he could stop them. The two glasses of rum - was that all it took these days? - had him feeling light-headed, and he felt a bit like it was now or never. The wedding was still nine months away but this seemed like a turning point, somehow.

It seemed like he was losing her, and he needed to get her back.

“What?”

Not quite the reaction he’d been hoping for.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I walked in the doors of that office,” he pointed vaguely in the direction of the building they’d just walked out of. “I loved you when you invited me to lunch, and welcomed me. And when you remembered my birthday so Mary Margaret would get me my favorite cake. And when you brought in homemade chicken parmesan for me when my oven was broken. And I loved you when you came to Family Day just for me, and when you told me I didn’t know how relationships worked. And when I bought you the swan and when you cut your hand. I loved you the whole time, and I’m still loving you, and I don’t quite know what to do with it anymore.”

“Killian, I--,”

“I know. You’re engaged, to someone else. But I just needed you to know. Just once. He’s not your only option, Emma. He’s not the end-all, be-all. I know he saved you when you were kids, but you’re not kids anymore. You don’t need him like you did then.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him. Then, she took out her keys and walked towards her yellow bug, and said nothing.

So, Killian headed back inside did the thing he’d actually planned to do that night, since his confession was not, at all, part of the plan.

“Cora, I’d like to formally request a transfer.”

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, on the way to his car, Killian saw a light on in the office upstairs. Either there was a lazy burglar upstairs, or Emma was sitting up there, thinking.

He hoped it was her in the split-second it took him to shift directions and head into the building and up the stairs.

“Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. I don’t know why I called you, I know it’s so late and you’re not even here. I just couldn’t think of anyone else to call. I don’t know. I mean, kind of. He’s just...he’s my best friend, you know?”

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but she’d been on the phone when he’d walked in. She was leaning on _his desk_ of all places. She muttered a goodbye and hung up when she saw him turn the corner.

“Killian, I’m--,” he closed the distance between them and stopped her mid-sentence.

“Don’t apologize, Swan. I just came up here to tell you--”

She grabbed him by the jacket, surprising him. She gathered the thick leather in her hands and pulled him to her. His lips crashed onto hers and he didn’t know which way was up. His hands were in her hair and on her chin and on her waist and touching every inch of her they could. Her hands remained on his jacket, securing his place against her body. His whole body was on fire, and she was gasoline. Killian couldn’t grip her hard enough, couldn’t convey all of his emotions through his lips, his tongue, his hands. He needed more.

Finally, as quickly as she’d grabbed him, she pushed him back.

“That was--,”

“A one-time thing.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and left before he could argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Finally, am I right!?
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's high time I thanked my new wonderful betas: snarkycaptainswan4 and revanmeetra87, who have read this whole ridiculously long story and kept me sane as I've read and re-read and written and re-written. You're both lovely!!
> 
> Also, I'm going to start taking prompts for "outtakes" and extra scenes, and I'll start a second story for one-shots. If there's anything you'd like to see that's not included in the story, please submit a prompt (here or on Tumblr) and I'll do my best to make it happen!
> 
> Also, I upped the rating because of some light swearing, nothing crazy.

That weekend, Killian packed up his meager collection of belongings. He’d found a motel in Misthaven, a temporary place to stay. He definitely didn’t think about Emma’s hands on his jacket or her lips on his or her tongue in his mouth.

Definitely not.

Monday morning, he walked into his new office, six hours from Storybrooke and Regina and Emma and everything else he’d left behind.

“Welcome, new guy,” a snarky grin greeted him from the desk in the back of the room, directly behind an empty one. “I’d wager this is your desk now. Just, you know, don’t ask what happened to the last guy who sat there.”

“I’ll take your word for it, lass. Killian Jones, transferred from Storybrooke.”

“Milah Shelley, a pleasure.”

“Indeed.”

Milah was pleasant enough, if a bit catty. She showed him the ropes, much the way someone else had done when he’d arrived in Storybrooke. She, unlike someone else, was single. Recently divorced, she’d divulged at lunch, eyeing him up like she wanted to eat _him_ when she was done with her sandwich.

He found that, after nearly four years of unrequited love, the attention was actually quite nice.

Killian found that he fit in nicely in Misthaven. He had an easy banter with Milah, and he got along quickly with his new boss, Tina, who preferred to go by Tink. She was much firmer than Regina, but just as endearing.

Tink had weekly conference room meetings, at which Killian had no choice but to pay attention. No blonde curls fell on his shoulder, no green eyes glinted with mischief to distract him.

“Let’s go out,” Milah said on his first Friday in Misthaven.

“Out?”

“Yes, you know, people do that sometimes. Meet up outside of work and chat, sometimes grab some food or a drink, or watch a flick. That type of thing.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Shelley?”

“Depends on your answer,” she grinned.

“How’s a man supposed to say no to that?”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t.”

Dating Milah was unlike anything Killian expected. Milah was a whirlwind, Killian an innocent bystander, caught up in the storm. She was the personification of excitement, always something new up her sleeve.

Killian loved it.

Their dates ranged from coffee to rock shows to the gun range. They saw monster truck shows and rodeos and things Killian never thought about attending before. They took spontaneous trips - sometimes to the neighboring town, other times they traveled across three state borders.

He was constantly exhausted, constantly exhilarated. He loved Milah Shelley and he loved the Misthaven branch. He loved his dinky apartment, a short drive from his girlfriend’s.

He loved the normalcy, the companionship.

His heart only ached a bit. A dull, constant ache that reminded him that Milah may be exciting, but she wasn’t one to settle down, something Killian desperately wanted. She made his heart race, but not in the right way. He loved her, but he knew, somewhere, that she wasn’t forever.

He ignored the ache.

His happiness was short-lived.

“Killian, I’ve got some strange news for you,” Cora told him over the phone. Cora never called Killian directly. She never called employees directly, period. She called regional managers, who then handed down her decree.

“What’s that, Cora?”

“We’re shutting down the Misthaven branch.”

It had been eight months. And now, just like that, he could feel his happiness slipping away. He’d be laid off, Milah would, too. How were they supposed to date if they didn’t have jobs, or money? The road trips that made their lives seem so exciting weren’t realistic anymore.

“Killian, are you there?”

“Yes, sorry. I just...I’m surprised you’re telling me directly. Shouldn’t Tink be announcing this?”

“ _Tina_ ,” Cora accentuated his boss’s real name, not one for nicknames, “knows and has been asked to remain discreet. I’m telling you because we’d like to send you back to Storybrooke. I know it feels as though you just left, and I know there are reasons behind this transfer that you’re not telling me. But we’d like to keep you on, and that’s the only place we’ve really got.”

“Who else would be staying?”

“We’ll keep as many of the sales staff as we can, of course. Most of the other departments will be cut down in one way or another.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we’ll keep the best employees from each department.”

“Ah.”

“So, will you stay on?”

“Yeah, Cora, of course.”

“Excellent. I’ll have accounting add a bonus to your next check, for relocation fees in both directions. We normally don’t pay for relocation for transfer requests, but since we’re sending you back so quickly, I’ll make an exception.”

“I appreciate that, Cora.”

“Have a good weekend, Killian. I’ll see you back in town in two weeks.”

Two weeks.

He wanted to tell Milah. He wanted to tell her all of it. Tell her why he’d transferred and that they were shutting down the branch. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Because he had something good with Milah, and bringing Emma into it would taint it in some way.

Emma.

He hadn’t even allowed himself to think her name in weeks. Months, even. And now that he had, he had her face in his mind, clear as though he’d just seen her yesterday.

Her blonde curls pulled back into a ponytail, her green eyes lit up with excitement, and just a bit of fear, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the moment.

The last time he’d seen her. Right after she’d kissed him.

“A one-time thing,” she’d said.

“So, this is it,” Killian was saying as they pulled into the Storybrooke Business Park parking lot two weeks later.

“This is home, then,” Milah sounded disappointed. She’d been on the fence about moving, Killian the deciding factor. He’d said she could stay with him - just for a week, while she got settled and found a place. He didn’t want to rush this. This was good.

For now, a voice inside his head whispered. He ignored it.

“Killy! We missed you, man,” Victor yelled from across the parking lot, his hand on Ruby’s back. Ruby screamed and Victor had to hold her back from running over in her 4-inch heels to say hello.

“I’ll see you guys inside,” Killian waved them off.

“Killy?” Milah was smirking. He kissed her.

“Don’t start.”

“Spoilsport.”

They walked inside and he tried not to be obvious when he let go of her hand right before they opened the door.

“Oh my God, you’re really here!” Emma. She was hugging him before he could stop her. His hands automatically wrapped around her waist, before he remembered the last time he’d hugged her like this, Neal storming in and--

He backed up. And noticed the light wasn’t reflecting off of her left hand.

The ring was gone.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, I KNOW! Please don't hate me - also please don't hate Milah because I love her so, so much.  
> If you've watched The Office, you may have seen this story line coming. Plus, I promised you all a slow romance, didn't I?
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!!
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super dialogue-heavy, anti-Neal chapter!

They’d added a few desks to make room for the new employees. Killian sat across from David now, Victor to his left. It was strange seeing the intern as a part of the sales staff, and at Killian's former desk to top it off. Milah was in the next desk clump over, sharing with Leroy, a grumpy transfer from Misthaven, and Astrid, a mild-mannered Storybrooke original. Killian missed facing Emma, but was also glad to be facing Milah instead. This was the way it should be.

It took less than an hour for him to be called into Regina’s office.

“Your majesty,” he joked, closing the door.

“You left.”

“I did.”

“You really thought leaving would solve your Emma problem?”

“I didn’t. But I couldn’t think of another way.” Regina’s eyebrow arched at that. “I told her how I felt, Regina. She didn’t say anything back. I couldn’t do it anymore, face her day in and day out and hope she’d change her mind.

“She broke it off with Neal.”

“I noticed. No ring.”

“She was miserable.”

“I never wanted that.”

“Still. She was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Have you told her that?”

“What?”

“She told me you hadn’t spoken to her. Not once, since you left. She seemed to think she’d done something wrong.”

He’d ignored her texts, thinking he’d never have to see her again. Thinking it was easier, for both of them, for him to pretend he’d never received them. She could go on with her wedding, he could go on with whatever this was with Milah.

“Talk to her, Jones.”

“Alright, alright.”

Killian found himself thankful for staggered lunches. With all the extra sales staff, Regina had split them in half, and Killian’s lunch didn’t line up with Milah’s. It did, however, line up with Emma’s.

Sneaky little witch, that Regina.

“Hey, I was thinking of heading to that Italian place. For old times’ sake and all that. Would like to go?” He ignored Milah’s stare. He could imagine her face: mostly curious, her right eyebrow arched, her mouth turned downward. Milah wasn’t the jealous type - she claimed she was too confident for that - but Killian knew she’d still have questions for him later.

“Yeah! That sounds great!”

He tried to pretend that his heart skipped a beat like that all the time. He should really get that checked out, or something.

Strange, though, that it hadn’t misbehaved like that in the better part of a year.

They sat at the bar again, but Killian imagined the bottom of his bar stool was covered in cement or lead or something equally heavy, so he wouldn’t be able to move closer to Emma with every joke, every laugh.

“I’m sorry. I missed you so much. I was...such an idiot.”

Killian sighed. He’d been hoping to go first, but Emma was too stubborn for that.

“No need to be sorry, Swan. The past is the past. Speaking of the past, I see you’re missing a certain piece of jewelry.”

“Neal left.”

Wait, what?

“ _He_ left _you_ , you mean?”

“I told him. About you. About the kiss. And he said he should have known. He said, um, well, I’d rather not get into it. Just...some not pleasant things about the two of us.”

The lead had moved from the bottom of Killian’s bar stool into the bottom of his stomach.

“Swan, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“I know.”

“If I’d known--,”

“What? You would have come back? You didn’t answer a single one of my texts.”

“I know.” He was quiet for a moment, chewing on a sweet potato fry. “I won’t make excuses, Emma. I said a lot of things before I left. And I can’t take them back. But I didn’t answer you because I thought it would be better for both of us.”

“You thought it would be better for both of us if I lost everything and you got to just run away and start some fancy new life in Misthaven?”

“I’d hardly call it fancy, Swan--,”

“That’s hardly the point of what I said.”

“Emma, I didn’t know he’d leave you. I didn’t…I didn’t think you’d tell him about the kiss. About what I’d said.”

“Well, I did.”

She was silent, and there was something behind her eyes that Killian couldn’t quite read.

“What did he say?”

“Killian, I don’t--,”

“Whatever he said, Swan, if it’s hurt you this badly then it couldn’t have been true. You deserve much better than him, and he’s obviously got you thinking the opposite. He’s a fool. He’s a fool and you’ll find someone better than him who knows how to treat you and to not ever put that look,” he pointed at her face in the mirror behind the bottles at the bar, “on your face. Okay?”

“Thanks, Killian.” But he knew she still didn’t believe him.

“Emma, tell me what he said.”

She sighed, finally realizing that Killian wasn’t going to move on until she told him.

“He said he should have known. That I was,” she looked around, making sure there weren’t any other patrons near them, “a dumb slut, and he should have left me years ago. That he knew you were…,” she stopped and looked at him, at the anger in his eyes and the ticking in his jaw.

“Go on, Swan. I can take it.”

“That…that he knew you were in love with me, but he never thought you’d man up and do anything about it. He said he was going to find you and do something about it, but I told him you’d transferred and he said, ‘Of course, classic. Ruins everyone else’s lives and then cuts and runs.’” She was flat out crying now. “I’m sorry, Killian. I shouldn’t have told you--,”

“You absolutely should have. It’s not good to hang onto those things. You had to tell someone. I’m sorry it was eight months later.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“I…I only told him last month.”

Ah.

“I thought he’d ask, you know, why I hadn’t sent out invitations or gone dress shopping or anything, but he just never even noticed. It’s like he picked a date and then forgot.”

“Oh, Emma.”

“I’m fine. We should…head back.”

He knew that was as far as the conversation would go. He was nearly shaking with anger, shocked but not surprised that Neal Gold, supposed love of Emma Swan’s life, had turned out to be…well, exactly who Killian expected him to be.

They stood, and he hugged her, quickly. He felt her hold on and he finally had to say it.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Silence.

“I just…I thought you should know. I’m seeing someone and it’s going really well.”

“Good. I’m…happy for you.” He could tell she meant it. “So, where does that leave us?” She was sad and scared and oh God, Killian just wanted to hold her.

“We’re friends, Swan. We always have been. I lost sight of that for a while, and I apologize. Truly. I never would have wanted you to feel alone.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s head back, shall we?”

She gave him a small smile. He knew he owed her more than just an apology, but she’d hurt him, too. He’d laid himself bare, out on the line, heart outside his body. And she’d said nothing. Well, nothing except….

_A one-time thing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, Neal is just the worst.
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball
> 
> Now accepting prompts for outtakes/extras from this 'verse!


	14. Chapter 14

Things in Storybrooke were normal. Boring and normal.

“Hey Killian, I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a moment?”

He’d been staring off into space, trying not to think about the fact that he and Milah hadn’t done _anything_ since moving here, that they’d become some boring old couple who watched old shows on Netflix. About how, yes, that had been what _he’d_ wanted, but Milah had never been this type of person before. About how something between them had changed and he wasn’t sure if it was good or completely horrible, or if he was reading into things too much.

“Killian?”

“Ah, sorry, Dave. Spaced out for a moment there. What can I do for you?”

“There’s something in my truck I’d like your opinion on.”

Killian had known David Nolan a long time. He knew when David was nervous. And boy, was he nervous.

He had a feeling he knew what was in the truck.

“Sure, mate, let’s go.”

Sure enough, David pulled a black velvet box out of the glove box.

“Oh, wow, Dave. Things are going well, then?”

“Yes. And since it was you who brought us together to begin with, I thought perhaps you could help me plan out the most mind-blowing proposal Storybrooke’s ever seen.”

“Can I be honest with you, mate?”

“I hope so.”

“Mary Margaret doesn’t strike me as the mind-blowing proposal type. I mean, you two are the most subtle couple in the office - and I mean that as a compliment. Wouldn’t it be more true to your relationship and to your lady to do something quiet and low-key?”

“Granny’s.”

“Aye, now you’re thinking.”

“We’ll throw you a ‘welcome back’ party, she’ll love it - you know how she gets.”

“Uh, I don’t--,”

“Please, Killian? I just want Mary Margaret to be happy. She’ll love this. Party planning is her stress relief. It gives her something to control...don’t tell her I phrased it that way, okay? Anyway, then I’ll propose and it’ll be so appropriate, since you’re the one who set us up to begin with. Please?”

He always was a sucker for true love.

Three nights later, Killian found himself staring down at...himself. Mary Margaret had ordered a cake with his face on it. They’d pooled their money, the lot of them, and rented out Granny’s in its entirety. Even with the Ruby-discount, it still hadn’t been cheap, Killian knew.

He was, if he had to admit it, touched.

There were banners hanging, welcoming him home. He’d never thought of Storybrooke as home, but he supposed, in some twisted way, it was. England hadn’t been home in a very long time. Misthaven had been comfortable, and fun, but not home. He tried, and failed, not to look into a very specific pair of green eyes and think about why on Earth Storybrooke felt so right, and when it had started feeling that way.

Milah’s hand on his back brought him back to the present.

“You’ve got a good family here, Killian. I’m glad I get to enjoy this with you.”

“Aye, me too,” he smiled down at her and pulled her close to him.

He caught Emma trying to leave twenty minutes later, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he caught her by the elbow before she could sneak out the door. They stared at the point of contact for a moment before Killian finally spoke.

“You won’t want to leave just yet, Swan. This party isn’t really for me.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s your face on the cake. Even if Ruby did separate your head from your neck when she cut it.”

“It’s a ruse. David’s got something else planned.”

Her eyes lit up.

“He isn’t.”

“Aye, he is. So, as I said. You won’t want to leave just yet.”

She looked skeptical, but her smile almost reached her eyes when she shut the door and returned to the party with him.

“You know, Killian, at some point, you’re going to have to tell me about her.” Milah had snuck up behind him after Emma had gone back to chat with Ruby.

“Nothing to tell, love.”

“Killian, what do you take me for? I know we’ve gotten a bit soft since moving to Sleepy-brooke, but I’m still awake enough to see how you look at her. You’ve never looked at me like that.”

“Milah…,”

“Oh, relax, Killian. I’m not jealous. I’m just saying, you might consider looking at what’s in front of you for once. And you might consider telling what’s in front of you the truth about what took you out to Misthaven in the first place.”

“You’re right. We’ll talk. After the party. There’s something happening and I don’t want to miss it.”

As he finished his sentence, David tapped his fork against his pint glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. His cheeks and ears were red, and there was a glassiness to his eyes. He’d had a few drinks to get up the courage to do this. Killian hoped he wasn’t too far gone to mess it up.

“I know we’re all excited to have Killian back,” there were cheers and claps, and Killian himself turned a bit red at the attention, “but let’s not forget the hero of this party, Miss Mary Margaret Blanchard, party-planner extraordinaire.” The claps and cheers grew in volume. Mary Margaret stood up and joined David, looking at him like he was the real hero. “Mary Margaret, you are, of course, more than just a party planner. You are my best friend, my confidante. You’re the best accountant I know,” and there was laughter there, and then everyone seemed to figure out what was coming all at once, “and I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anything.”

David put his pint glass down on the bar. Milah grabbed Killian’s hand, but Killian’s eyes met Emma’s from across the room. No matter what had happened since, they’d done this. They’d worked together and brought these two crabby, lonely people to this very restaurant. They’d made this happen.

A good team, indeed.

“Storybrooke Paper Company wouldn’t be half of what it is without you, and I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you either.” He knelt down and Mary Margaret gasped, “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, and be my wife?” He pulled the black box from his pocket, and suddenly the entire office was clamoring forward, trying to see the ring.

“YES!”

And the whole office, even the grumpiest, the loneliest, the most broken-hearted amongst them, cheered. And David slid a ring with a bright green stone in the center of it onto Mary Margaret’s left ring finger.

And through it all, through the champagne toasting and the screaming and Mary Margaret’s crying, Killian just looked at Emma, and Emma looked back at Killian. And while somewhere deep in his brain, he felt the pressure of Milah’s hand in his, he still felt like the loneliest man in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might post extra quickly this week because the next two chapters are WILD, y'all! I can't wait for you guys to read them!!!
> 
> I'd love prompts for outtakes/extras from this 'verse!
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a VERY short chapter, so I'll also be posting the following chapter tomorrow, instead of the standard three days I've been sticking to.

“David, Killian, Leroy, Victor - half the warehouse workers are sick, and they need some help down there. Can you please lend a hand?” Regina looked stressed, and she rarely looked anything less than perfectly put-together. Killian readily agreed, his deskmates close behind him. Leroy grumbled quite a bit, but eventually joined the other three men and headed out the door.

“So, all we really need you guys to do is bring the boxes of paper to the truck. We’ll take care of the machinery, of the loading and unloading. You just...hand the boxes over, okay?”

Sean, the foreman in the warehouse, made it well-known that he thought the upstairs workers were useless. He claimed he could do the work with his bare-bones staff, didn’t want office workers helping him, but Regina had insisted. And Regina got what Regina wanted.

Killian was fairly certain he’d never worked up such a sweat in his life as he did in the warehouse. He was a fit guy, kept in decent shape, but the warehouse, as Sean continuously reminded him, was no joke.

Eight long, sweaty, breathless hours later, and his work was finally done. He grabbed one last cardboard box to throw it in the baler, having offered to clean up after everyone else headed home for the day. He thought he heard a crunch, like someone had stepped on a packing peanut, but figured it was just one of the guys coming back for his phone.

“Jones, what the hell are you doing in my warehouse?”

Shit.

“Neal.”

“You heard me. I asked what the hell you’re doing here.”

“You quit, Neal. This isn’t your warehouse. It never was.” Killian could smell the beer as Neal stepped closer.

“Makes sense you’d be down here. You seem to like cleaning up the trash people leave behind,” Neal growled.

“I desperately hope you haven’t just called Emma Swan ‘trash’, mate.”

“Why? Because you’re so in love with her?” Neal spit on the ground, as though the word love had made him sick. “She told me everything, man. You thought, what, you’d confess your true feelings and she’d just come running? I did _everything_  for that girl. She was absolutely nothing when I met her. She tell you that? She tell you she was wearing the same clothes when I met her that she’d been wearing for three years? That I was the one who took her in, fed her, bought her clothes that actually fit? Got her this very job, you know that? And one word from you about love and that dumb slut--,”

Killian didn’t even think, just punched.

“That’s great, mate. I’m glad you took care of her. Seems like she was only good enough to take care of when she wasn’t thinking for herself though, eh? What sort of man doesn’t want his girlfriend to grow? She told me about how she wanted to travel. About how you wouldn’t let her. And all the times she wanted to do something, anything, but sit at home with you, and you wouldn’t allow it. Seems like you’re a bit of a control freak there, Gold.”

“You don’t know me, Jones. And you don’t know Emma. Not as well as I do.”

Neal came barreling towards Killian before he could react. Neal was taller, built thicker, and he had alcohol and adrenaline running through his veins. Killian’s back slammed against the baler.

“So, what are you gonna do, Neal? Beat me up down here in the warehouse? You’ll only have to explain why you were here in the first place.”

“I came back to talk to Sean, to get my job, my life, my girl back. But then I saw you, so I waited. I thought I’d catch you in the parking lot, but this is way better.” Neal’s words were slurring and for the first time since he’d heard the packing peanut crunch, Killian was afraid.

“Neal, look--,”

“No more talking, Jones. Let’s see how well you can hold my girlfriend’s ass with only one hand.”

Neal had Killian pinned to the baler, and there was nothing Killian could do. He tried yelling, but he knew no one was there. He’d texted Milah an hour ago, telling her he’d see her at her apartment later. It was after 6. He was alone in the building, aside from Neal Gold and the anger and alcoholic breath he’d brought with him.

He heard the baler start, and his muscles ached from all of the work he’d put in. He tried to get them to work, to fight back, to push harder. But Neal had been waiting while Killian had been sweating. He screamed and tried to kick and punch with everything he had, but his legs were giving out. Neal held Killian’s left arm high, forcing it into the baler as far as he could. Killian heard his bones crunching before he felt them.

And then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I URGE you to read the end notes of this chapter.

Killian dreamt of black hair and blue eyes, a snarky smile. He dreamt of a cabin by the lake and long road trips with feet out the window.

He dreamt of eyes that mirrored his own, of a paternal figure smiling at him, but he couldn’t tell if the smile was one of pride or pity.

He dreamt of blonde curls and green eyes, of conspiratorial whispers and first dates and Granny’s and sweet potato fries. He smelled hot chocolate and cinnamon.

“Killian, I know things have been weird. I should have just been honest with you. I love you, too, and I don’t know what to do with myself now. Because what’s happened to you is entirely my fault. I just...I shouldn’t have told Neal. Or I shouldn’t have been with him in the first place. I never imagined….”

“Come on, Jones, wake up. I can’t run an office with my best salesman in the hospital. If you can hear me, please wake up.”

“Come on, Killy. We’re all rooting for you.” 

“Oh, Killian. I wish you’d told me about this Emma business. Not that that would have stopped this from happening, I suppose. But maybe if I’d made you tell me, if I’d forced it out of you like I wanted to, maybe I would have asked what Neal looked like or something. I saw him in the parking lot yesterday. I never even said anything, I had no idea who he was….”

“Killian, please….”

He woke up confused. He remembered a lot of pain, but he couldn’t remember why, and he couldn’t help but wonder where the pain had gone. He flexed his fingers, but nothing happened.

What the hell?

He heard the beep of a monitor, and he found himself in a hospital bed.

It all came rushing back to him at once. Why couldn’t he move his hand?

He’d been about to yell, about to call for someone who could tell him what was going on, when he noticed a pile of coats on the couch. A pile of coats with blonde hair.

“Swan?”

The coats moved and suddenly Emma’s face popped out from beneath them.

“You’re awake. Holy crap. Oh, thank God.”

“How long was I out?”

“A day or so. They said your brain couldn’t comprehend what your body had gone through, that you needed to sleep it off or something. I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. I was too busy worrying.”

“I’m fine.”

She glanced at his left hand.

“They said…,”

“Seems I’ve lost a bit of myself, yes.”

“Oh God, Killian I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know Neal was still around, I thought he’d left me, just like…,”

“Just like who, Swan?”

“No one. Everyone. I don’t know. This isn’t about me, or about Neal. This is about you. What can I do? Do you want me to call Milah?”

“No, Emma. I just...would you sit down for a moment, you’re making me dizzy.”

She paused in her absent-minded laps around the room and looked at him, considering.

“Sit with me for a moment.”

She looked unsure, looked like she thought if she came too close, she’d break him in half.

“I can’t. God, Killian, you must hate me.”

“I could never--,”

“I’m going to call Regina, tell her you’re awake. She’s only downstairs getting lunch, but she’ll want to see you.”

“Emma!” But she was already out the door.

Killian’s mind raced, thinking about things he’d dreamt, and he wasn’t sure where his dreams ended and reality began. He tried again to move his hand.

Nothing.

The doctor came in shortly after Emma left. Killian tuned in and out, words like “physical rehabilitation” and “nerve damage” floating in and out of his head.

“You’ll need to learn to live with just the right hand. The rehab has a chance of success, but it’s my job to be honest with you.”

“Killian, oh thank God!” Regina was on him in an instant. She wasn’t the hugging type, but clearly this was an exception. Robin followed behind her, looking sheepish, a miniature version of himself at his side.

“Killian, glad to see you’re back with us. This is Roland.”

“Hi Mister Killian.”

“Well hello, Roland,” Killian did his best to smile, but he was feeling overwhelmed.

“We won’t keep you. Regina and I were out to lunch when Emma called. I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person that I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thank you, Robin.”

With a nod, Robin was gone. The doctor stood behind Regina awkwardly, as though he still had more to say. Regina noticed Killian’s glance in his direction and turned towards him.

“Whatever you’re telling Killian can wait. I’ve got more pressing concerns to talk to him about.”

“All due respect, ma’am, Mister Jones’ hand--,”

“I know perfectly well about his hand, Doctor,” she squinted at his nametag, “Avalon. And I’ll thank you to give me five minutes with my friend and employee before you continue to fill his head with various pieces of stress-inducing information.”

“Yes ma’am,” Doctor Avalon nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, sighed, and exited the room.

“Killian, I’ve got horrible news.”

“You mean besides the fact that I can’t feel my left arm below the elbow?”

“It’s not…it’s not covered. By workman’s compensation. I spoke with my mother and she can’t do anything. It’s beyond her control, and not many things are beyond the control of Cora Mills.”

“What are you saying, Regina?”

“I’m saying you can sue Neal for all he’s got, which isn’t much, but the company can’t help you.”

“I wasn’t on the clock.” Regina nodded. “And it wasn’t an accident – not my fault, nor the fault of a machine. Not even the fault of an employee.”

“Exactly. Killian, I’m so sorry.”

“How am I supposed to work like this, Regina?” His voice was pitiful, nearly cracking. “How am I supposed to do anything like this?”

“Killian, I can’t imagine you’d want to continue working at SPC, but if you do, I promise you we’ll make it work. My mother and I have talked, and we’re personally going to cover the hospital bills, or we’ll get Neal’s bastard father to help at the very least.”

“You know Neal’s father?”

“My mother dated him. Many years ago. Long before I was a thought in her head, thankfully.”

“Storybrooke is far too small.”

“Tell me about it. So, my mother will try and pull her strings, but it’s not a guarantee. But regardless, would you…I mean, could you even consider it? Once you’re healed, of course.”

“It doesn’t sound like I’ll ever be healed, Regina.”

She was silent.

“I’ll come back, Regina. I can’t imagine anyone else will hire a one-handed man, and SPC gave me fresh start at life once before. I suppose it can again.”

“Are you sure? I don’t…I don’t want to force you. But we’ve only just gotten you back, and I know that’s selfish of me to say, but I don’t care.”

“I can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world.”

Milah visited him a few hours later.

“So just, no feeling. Nothing at all.”

“It’s like I can tell my fingers to move, but they don’t listen. A lot like talking to you, actually,” he winked at her.

“Killian, it’s not funny. This is a really scary thing. You could have…something worse could have happened to you.”

“I joke when I’m uncomfortable, Milah. And I am _quite_ uncomfortable, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“We need to talk about Emma.”

“Now!?”

“If not now, when? You need to tell me why this Neal person was so angry that he felt the need to do _this_ ,” she motioned at his hand, still not able to look at the swollen, broken, limp limb attached to the man she loved.

“I told her I loved her.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s how it started.”

They talked. They talked and the sun set and the hospital halls grew quiet. They talked until a nurse in pink scrubs came in and told them, quietly, that visiting hours were over.

And by the time she left, she still hadn’t looked at his hand.

 

****

His phone didn’t buzz again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh okay, so first of all, I'm sorry that the color on the text image is so horrible. Usually I can get the color picker to get a much more accurate color for what I need to white out. Sorry if it pulls you out of the story, I was a bit desperate to post this after the reactions to yesterday!
> 
> Second, I need you all to trust me. Killian is DOWN right now, but I'd never LEAVE him there, okay? My beta reader used the phrase "that absolutely destroyed my heart and put it back together!" when she had read SEVERAL chapters ahead of what you're all reading. Have faith in me!!!!
> 
> Finally, I love you all so so so much!! I hope you don't hate me after what I've put you all through <3
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	17. Chapter 17

He’d begged David not to let Mary Margaret throw him a party. He’d only just had the ‘welcome home’ party a few weeks before…the incident, and he couldn’t handle another cake with his face on it.

She’d listened, but she wasn’t happy about it. But the sheep on his desk had a new friend: a little pirate figurine with a hook for a hand, and she’d winked at him when he’d been looking around for the source of his new gift.

“There were pictures from the casino night event last year. Mary Margaret thought you looked very pirate-y, and now…the hand. I hope it’s not insensitive.” David seemed to realize what the implications were behind the gift as he was saying it aloud.

“It’s perfect, Dave. I assure you. Perfect.” It actually was quite clever.

Emma, on the other hand, wouldn’t look at him. She begged Regina to switch her lunch hour – something he _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to know, but pity from the boss will get you a lot of intel. She was avoiding him at all costs. And meanwhile, his relationship with Milah was falling apart between his five working fingertips.

He’d still been hanging on by a thread, a tiny sliver of hope, when she was at his apartment the following Thursday.

“Killian, are you happy?”

He tried not to think about that night on a boat in the middle of the lake, when he’d asked a certain receptionist the same thing. About how she’d been so shocked she’d sliced her palm clean open with a shard of glass.

About the half of a scarf that still remained tied to his bedpost.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Were you happier in Misthaven?”

“It was different there.”

“There weren’t any distractions.”

“There were a lot of distractions. Most of them involved you, if memory serves.” He tried to flirt, tried to pull her closer and get her to…to what? To love him again?

“It was different there, you’re right.”

“What are you getting at, Milah?”

“I think…I think it’s time I moved back.”

“What?”

“I think it’s time. I’m not asking you to come with me. In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Milah….”

“I’ve already spoken with Regina, and she’s accepted my resignation.”

“You spoke with Regina before you spoke with me?”

“If I’d spoken to you first, you would have tried to talk me out of it.”

“You’re damn right I would have! Milah, I love you.”

“I know you do, Killian. I love you, too. But…I’m not happy here. And this is your home. What’s best for each of us isn’t what’s best for the two of us together.”

“Milah, please.”

“I’m sorry, Killian.”

She kissed him, a quick kiss, and she was gone.

She said her goodbyes at work the following day, and was out of his life entirely by Monday.

Killian Jones was, once again, alone.

He threw himself into his work, as much as he could. Sales calls, thankfully, didn’t require anything but his shoulder and his ear, and the phone he cradled between them, and he could mostly type what he needed with his working right hand. He found himself thankful it hadn’t been his dominant hand, so he could still write notes to himself while he spoke with clients, in the event that he couldn’t type quickly enough.

He saw the pitying looks his co-workers gave him – first your hand, then your girl, they seemed to say. He didn’t want pity. He deserved everything he got. For the first time since the hospital, Killian was glad Emma wouldn’t look at him. It was awful enough seeing everyone else look at him like a child whose ice cream had fallen on the ground before he’d even had a taste. He didn’t need Emma looking at him like that, too. He wouldn’t have been able to take it.

In the end, work wasn’t enough of a distraction. He’d been content in his own relationship for so long, and now he knew he’d been neglecting his unofficial position as Cupid of the office.

“Listen, sister, if you can’t keep your crap on your side of the desk, then maybe you need a little bit less crap.”

Leroy. Now _that_ would be a tough project. He gave David Nolan, before Mary Margaret had come along, a run for his cranky money. Leroy was always grumbling about something, always just a little bit sour for seemingly no reason.

“Jones, my office.”

“What, Regina?”

“Close the door.” He did. “I know that look in your eye.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Who are you planning on matching up now?”

There was no use denying it. Regina knew him too well.

“Leroy.”

“Leroy!? With who!?”

“Well, that’s just it. I’m not sure. He needs someone to soften him a bit, don’t you think?”

“Well sure, but what poor sap would be willing to subject herself to his constant grouchiness just to cheer him up a bit?”

“I don’t know yet, Regina, but I’m going to figure it out.”

“Whatever you say, Jones.” She softened a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m fine, Regina. I saw it coming. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

She dismissed him, but he got the distinct feeling she didn’t quite believe him. Which was just fine, because he didn’t believe himself.

There was a note on his desk when he came back. He unfolded it, and there was one solitary word scribbled out:

__

He looked around, trying to find who would have left a note on his desk, never mind a note with a random co-worker’s name on it. He and Astrid had rarely spoken; he knew her a bit, knew she was Mary Margaret’s right-hand man on the party-planning committee. He knew that she never spoke up at meetings unless she felt someone was being treated unfairly. She had loyal customers because of her perky attitude and constant commitment to do everything she could for every client. Killian had never once seen her angry.

_Oh._

Someone was trying to pair Astrid off with Leroy. Someone who knew him as well as, if not better than, Regina, and would have known that in his time of loneliness and despair, he’d turn to his favorite pastime of creating other people’s happiness.

He turned around, but Emma wasn’t at her desk.

He’d find her sooner or later. For now, he had some work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Announcement!!! I've officially started a collection of one-shots from this universe! You can find it here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12789555/chapters/29186427  
> Or by using the link to the Match Makers series at the top of this fic :)
> 
> I will ALWAYS take prompts for this universe!!! I love it so much :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm home visiting family for a week, but I'm still trying to get these up on my usual every-three-days schedule. Because I'm DYING to get you guys to the good stuff, okay!?

The following day at lunch, Killian started planning.

“Say Leroy, what do you do for fun?”

“Fun?”

“Aye, I assume you’ve heard of it, maybe you’ve had it once or twice.”

Leroy eyed him up, clearly confused at Killian’s sudden interest in his life. Apparently, he decided Killian Jones was no threat.

“Sometimes I go to the old caves downtown. It’s some tourist attraction, you take an elevator down below the surface and you can go through all the old mines. It relaxes me.”

“That…actually sounds rather interesting, Leroy. I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

“Aw, don’t go telling everyone about it, okay? It’s where I go when I get stressed, somewhere I _don’t_ have to see any of you idiots from work.”

“You have my word.”

Leroy grunted in response.

Now, how to get Astrid to go? Two heads were better than one, he figured.

“I need your help.”

“What, Killian?”

“I know you left me that note, Swan.”

Her face flushed bright red.

“Come on, for old times’ sake? Help a man out.”

“I don’t know, Killian.”

“Please?” He whipped out the puppy dog eyes, pushing out his lower lip just a tad.

“Oh, God, you’re pathetic. Fine. What do you need?”

“Well, Leroy apparently goes down into those tourist caves pretty often. Now I don’t know how to get Astrid to accidentally run into him. Can’t exactly fake a voucher again, can I?”

“Hm. Let me think on it. I’ll get back to you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It took a few days, and Killian was certain he was on his own in this endeavor, but then a crumpled piece of paper hit him in the back of the head. He turned, but Emma was focused intently on her computer, only her red-tinted ears betraying her.

Killian picked up the note, rolling his eyes dramatically.

 

Emma Swan would never cease to amaze him.

“Astrid?” He found her a while later in the break room, which was blessedly empty.

“Killian! How are you?”

“Doing well, considering. I actually came back here because I heard you were in a bit of a bind.”

“Me?”

“Aye. Rumor has it you’re looking for a gift for your niece.”

“Yes! Oh, she’s 11, such an odd age. Too old for dolls, too young for makeup. Her interests change every week, it seems like. One week, it’s super heroes. Then it’s baseball. She did ballet, tap, and jazz all within the span of three months!”

“Ah, having never been an 11-year-old girl myself, I can’t give you much advice there. But there’s a little tourist stop downtown. There are these caves you can tour, you know? And I guess there are some gems hidden in the caves, or they sell them in the shop. Might make a nice, unique piece of jewelry for a little girl.”

“Oh, Killian, that’s brilliant! I’ll have to head over after work! Thank you!”

“Anytime, Astrid. Glad I could help.”

Now, how to ensure Leroy was annoyed enough to need to head to the caves the same day?

He headed back through the kitchen just in time to hear Leroy himself yelp.

“Hey, sister, watch where you’re going!”

“Oh crap, Leroy, I’m so sorry. I’ve gone and spilled coffee on you. Thank goodness it was cold, I guess, right?”

“Oh yeah, thank goodness for that,” his voice was laced with sarcasm.

Emma winked at Killian as she headed towards him, pushing past him into the kitchen.

Good God, she was brilliant.

Killian couldn’t help himself. He knew he should leave well enough alone, but he just wanted to make sure that the happy couple…became a couple.

He pulled into the parking lot just in time to see them notice each other walking towards the door. He rolled down his window, thankful he’d found a close enough spot to hear them, hoping he wouldn’t be too obvious.

“Leroy?”

“Astrid? What uh…what are you doing here? Isn’t this place for tourists and kids?”

“I could ask you the same question, you know,” a good-natured laugh fell out of her mouth.

Oh, yes, if anyone could lighten Leroy up, it was Astrid.

Leroy turned an interesting shade of red before responding.

“Well, sometimes I come here to think. Going down underground, it’s kinda nice, you know? Feels like I’m somewhere else.”

“I’ve never been underground before. I’m searching for some pretty gemstones for my niece. I was just going to grab them from the gift shop, but maybe…maybe you’d let me take the elevator with you? Just really quickly? I’m…a bit frightened, to be honest with you.”

Leroy cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah. Sure. I could take you along for the ride, so to speak. And there’s nothing to afraid of down there, you know. I’ve found some neat stuff. I could help you look for something for your gift.”

“Oh, Leroy, that would be lovely!”

Killian had done it. He couldn’t believe it. He was about to start his car and head off, another task complete, when he noticed a familiar yellow bug in the row next to him. He climbed out of his car once he was sure Astrid and Leroy were safely inside, unable to see him. He made his way to the bug and knocked on the window, scaring the daylights out of a certain blonde receptionist.

“Killian! What the hell are you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Great minds, as they say. I was watching our handiwork unfold. I’m guessing you had the same idea.”

She blushed all the way from her forehead to her collarbone and nodded.

“I’d forgotten how nice it was. Doing this for other people.”

“Aye.”

“I’m sorry about Milah. I…I should have told you that sooner.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Swan. She did what was best for her, I can’t fault her for that.”

“Well, I should go….” She grabbed her keys from the passenger seat, trying to find the right one to shove into the ignition.

“Emma, wait.”

“It’s late--,”

“Emma, please stop avoiding me. I can’t take it anymore.”

She stared at him, a frightened deer caught in headlights, her mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say.

“I know things have been hard. I know we never got back what we had before I left, that I was a jerk who left you alone when you needed me. But you were my best friend, Swan. And I hate the thought of you hating me.”

“Killian, I don’t--,”

“Look, Emma. I’m going to just…I’m going to put it all on the line again. So here it is.” He took a deep breath, trying to stop himself talking in circles. “I still love you, Emma. I probably always will. Even twenty years from now, if we’ve both married other people and had a hundred children, I’ll probably still love you somewhere deep down. And I don’t intend to give up on you. I did that once and it’s cost me…more than I thought possible,” he caught Emma’s glance at his left hand, motionless and covered in a simple black glove. “So, no more games, no more hiding. I’m going to prove myself to you. So, when I win your heart, Emma – and I will win it – it will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me. Not because I’ve fed you some nonsense about being the only one who cares for you. Not because you think I’m the only option. But because you _really, truly, deeply_ want me. As much as I want you.”

He walked away before she could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The caves Leroy loves are based on Crystal Cave in Pennsylvania, where I went a few times as a good. I used to love Fool's Gold!
> 
>  A reminder that there is now a companion piece to this story, called Missed Connections. This will be for outtakes/extras/one-shots, and I'm always taking prompts for it!
> 
> SPOILER: This is not the end of the angst just yet. I'm SORRY.
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	19. Chapter 19

Killian was pleased to see Astrid and Leroy sitting together at lunch the following day. Most of the office couldn’t believe Leroy was holding an entire conversation with another person, never mind the kindest, happiest person in the office. But Leroy was noticeably more cheerful. Killian thought he may have even caught him smiling.

Good.

Killian stared at his computer, lost in his thoughts, when he suddenly noticed the date.

March 5th. Why was that important? It was like something was nagging at his brain, something he couldn’t quite touch.

And then it hit him, full force. Emma Swan was to marry Neal Gold on March 5th. Of course, with Neal in the county jail and owing Killian every dime he had to his name, that wedding was less likely to happen than ever. Still, he knew Emma would be upset, knew that she likely was torturing herself over it. And he certainly couldn’t have that.

“Delivery for Emma Swan?”

His back was to her, so he couldn’t see her, but he felt her glance at him. Felt it like she was a part of him.

“Yellow lilies. My favorite.”

“Is there a card, Miss Swan?” Regina asked, but she was staring at Killian, her eyebrow arched.

“‘Roses are red, please don’t be blue. I know they’re your favorite, because they’re mine, too,’” she read aloud. “So kitschy.”

But he could hear the smile in her tone.

 

For good measure, Killian gave the scarf around his bedpost a little tug. From his spot on the dresser, Liam raised his eyebrow expectantly.

A week after the flowers, a small Cupid toy joined the sheep and the pirate figurine on his desk. A note was attached.

_We do good work_ , he smiled to himself.

“Excuse me?” a small voice called from the doorway.

“Roland?” Killian recognized the boy from the hospital.

“Hi Mister Killian. My daddy was supposed to come outside and get me, but he’s taking too long. Is ‘Gina here?”

Killian pointed to her office, where it looked like Regina was just ending a particularly stressful phone call.

“Knock first, kid. She looks a bit stressed. Wouldn’t want to startle her.”

Roland nodded seriously and approached the door. His tiny hand made a tiny noise and the door and Regina’s head shot up like she’d know that sound anywhere.

She opened the door quickly.

“Roland?”

“‘Gina, I’m here to ask you something.”

Killian waited for the dark flash in her eyes he’d seen when Neal had used the same nickname all those years ago, but it never came.

“Roland, you should be at home, with the sitter--,”

“She’s outside waiting. My daddy knows I’m here.”

“Your father knows you’re here? What on Earth is going on, little one?”

“Shh, ‘Gina I’m trying to ask you something VERY serious!”

“Oh, I apologize. Go on.” From anyone else, it would have sounded condescending. But as Killian had told her before, Regina had a way with children. And this one, her beloved boyfriend’s small, motherless son, was no different.

“Regina, will you be my mommy?”

You could hear a pin drop – saying something on a floor covered in carpet. The whole office was staring at Regina, waiting.

“Roland! You…oh, Roland, you’ve already asked her. You were supposed to wait.”

“I couldn’t wait anymore! You were taking too long.”

All the eyes watching Regina slowly turned to the kitchen doorway. There stood Robin, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“You’re right, Roland, I was. Has she answered yet?”

“She was about to and then you interrupted!”

“Ah, stealing the spotlight. Apologies, Roland. Milady, I believe the lad wants an answer,” his eyes were serious, but a nervous smile threatened to take over his face.

“Roland, I…I would love to be your mommy. I’m not sure if--,”

“Daddy she said yes! Do yours now!”

“Regina, this wasn’t…quite how things were meant to go, but I suppose nothing with us ever is.”

“Robin…,” it was barely a whisper. If Killian had been any further away, he wouldn’t have been certain she’d made any noise at all.

“I was meant to ask first, and I was supposed to take you out to lunch and not do this…,” he motioned towards the office of onlookers, “here. But of course, Roland’s question was imperative, and we both know better than to keep Roland waiting. So, I’ll take second place. Regina, will you be my wife?”

“Oh Robin, yes!”

And for the second time in as many months, the entire office cheered at another office romance made official. The celebration didn’t last long as Robin apparently had very specific lunch plans for his son and his new fiancé. But the happiness in the air, thick all around them, remained long after they’d gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romance is in the air at Storybrooke Paper Company!
> 
> And look at that, our match making couple-not-couple is texting again. Hmmm.
> 
> Taking prompts/requests for outtakes/extras from this story! They'll go in this story's companion piece: Missed Connections.
> 
> Also, keep an eye out for news on the Captain Swan Little Bang, as yours truly will be entering a story in that!
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball
> 
> Also I love love love comments, so please let me know what you think so far, even if you think I'm a terrible writer who just needs to get Killian and Emma together already! :P


	20. Chapter 20

Killian was dancing with Emma. She was wearing a red, floor-length ballgown and he a tux. There’d been a wedding, but all Killian could think about was how beautiful Emma looked.

“You’re a vision, Swan.”

“You clean up pretty nicely yourself.”

Killian smiled, reveling in this moment. His right hand was clutching Emma’s, his left hand was….

Where was his left hand?

“Looking for something?”

Neal stood behind Emma, a black glove dangling from his fingers, taunting Killian with it. His smile was twisted, cruel. He faked throwing the glove – presumably containing Killian’s hand – across the room. Killian leapt for it, dropping Emma in the process.

“Killian!”

Shit. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

“Not like you’d ever really be able to please her anyway.”

Neal’s face morphed into Milah’s. Killian shook his head, trying to understand.

“You’ve only got one hand, Killian. You’re hardly even a man anymore. How would you protect her with only your right hand? How would you hold her, make her feel loved? You can’t.”

Milah’s mouth continued to move, but only a buzzing sound came through her lips.

_Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt._

His alarm.

Killian jumped up from his pillows, soaked in sweat. A dream. It had been a dream. His left hand was….

Ah, still useless. But still there, at least. Not being tossed across a ballroom by Neal Gold.

Crawling out of bed, Killian tried to shake the dream out of his mind. But, for possibly the first time in his life, Killian couldn’t seem to forget a single detail of it.

He showered and dressed for work, dreading the moment he’d have to face Emma. Her face as he’d dropped her to the floor in his dream was still there, every time he closed his eyes, taunting him. He poured himself a large thermos of coffee and headed out.

As was becoming the norm, something waited for him on his desk when he arrived. A small envelope, with beautiful calligraphy on the front.

 

David was nowhere to be found, but Killian had a guess as to what waited for him inside the envelope. He worried for a moment how he’d open it one-handed without embarrassing himself, but then he realized that they hadn’t sealed it. They’d simply tucked the top flap into the back of the envelope.

That Mary Margaret was a smart one, he’d give her that.

 

____  


The address was given at the bottom of the invitation, but Killian knew exactly where the church was. He silently thanked a god he wasn’t sure existed that they were getting married in a small church right here in Storybrooke, and not somewhere fancy with a large ballroom attached.

“Ah, I’d hoped to be here when you saw that.”

“I can re-enact it for you, if you’d like,” Killian winked at David, who’d just come from the kitchen.

“That’s alright. Saying you’ll be there would be enough.” There was a question in his voice.

“Of course, Dave. You two were my first achievement as the office Cupid, I wouldn’t miss it.”

David seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as though he really weren’t sure if Killian would come.

“We were just worried, with the short notice and all….”

“It is quite soon, isn’t it? I suppose you two just want to get the show on the road, eh?”

“We spent four years loving each other from across the office. Then over a year dating, thanks to you, before I finally got up the nerve to ask her to marry me. We didn’t want to wait anymore than we already have.”

“I’m happy for you, Dave. Truly. Of course I’ll come.”

Killian hoped the invitation would be a sign of good things to come – his bad luck streak coming to an end, or something.

When Emma Swan sat down across from him at lunch – despite having switched to the opposite hour – he started to believe his luck was, in fact, turning around.

“Feels a little bit like our kids are growing up and getting married, doesn’t it?” She was holding up an envelope much like the one he’d found on his desk that morning. “I mean, we made this happen. Feels like we created something there.”

“We did, Swan. We created just a little bit of magic.” He couldn’t look at her, instead focusing on the frozen dinner before him – he’d gotten lazy with cooking since…everything that had happened. “True love and all that.

“Are you going, do you think?”

“Of course. I do look absolutely dashing in a tux, I can’t pass up that opportunity.” He chanced a glance at her, wiggling his eyebrows in jest, but his chest ached immediately in response and his eyes shot back down to the plastic dish of chicken and pasta that was quickly growing cold.

“We could go, you know, together.”

The world froze for a moment. Killian’s co-workers stopped moving, stopped talking. The copier stopped mid-print job. The refrigerator’s constant hum was silenced. The clock ceased its ticking.

“Together?” And everything was moving again. His eyes met hers and he ignored the ache.

“Yeah,” she was flustered suddenly, her tell-tale bright red flush coloring her cheeks, “you know, as friends. We set them up together, we should watch them get married together.”

_Ah._

“Yeah, Swan, that’d be great.” He thought for a moment. “What are you doing on lunch right now?”

“Oh, I um…I asked Regina to give me my old time back.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I just missed…eating lunch at noon.”

“Well, the kitchen hasn’t been the same without you.” He hadn’t stopped looking at her, even though she’d looked away ages ago. The ache in his chest was growing but he continued to ignore it.

_You’re hardly even a man anymore._ Milah’s voice was in his head suddenly.

“I’ve got to go,” he threw his barely eaten lunch in the trash, practically running through the doors and down the stairs and out into the fresh air.

_Not like you’d ever really be able to please her anyway._

He jogged around the side of the building, all the way around the back, feeling his heart breaking in half as he reached the back, by the dumpsters, where he could hide while he caught his breath.

_As friends_ , it was Emma’s voice in his head now.

He wasn’t good enough for Emma. He’d always known that, but now it was smacking him in the face. That he’d had the audacity to believe he could win her….

He pulled himself together and forced himself to walk back into the building, back up the stairs, back through the doors. He forced himself to keep working as though everything was fine. He forced himself to go straight home after work, instead of stopping by the liquor store for the first time since he’d met with Cora Mills. He forced himself to eat dinner, since he’d tossed out his lunch. He forced himself to lie down in his bed.

But he couldn’t force himself to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whistles innocently*
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball
> 
> And don't forget to check out this story's companion piece, Missed Connections for outtakes/extras!


	21. Chapter 21

With Milah gone and Emma back on her former lunch hour, things in Killian’s work life were feeling very…normal. With the exception of the lack of a certain piece of jewelry on Emma’s finger, it could have been two years ago all over again.

That and the four couples who’d barely been blips on each other’s radars – if they’d even met yet. A lot could happen in two years, Killian reflected.

He and Emma settled back quickly into their old routine: lunch in the kitchen, venting about their problems. They skirted around any romantic topics, sticking to co-workers and clients and other vanilla topics that wouldn’t cause any blushing cheeks or stammering or general discomfort.

Not that Killian had any romantic stories to share anyway.

Until people decided to start paying him back for his good deeds. Apparently, people around the office had grown tired of Killian’s pining away for Emma if he wasn’t going to make a move, and suddenly everyone had a friend they wanted to set him up with.

First came Mary Margaret’s friend Ashley. Ashley was kind, but a bit young for Killian – barely twenty-one. She, like Killian, had struggled in childhood and had had to work to get where she was in life. He respected her a great deal, but it wasn’t a good match.

Next was Astrid’s neighbor Aurora, a sweet girl who was much too innocent for Killian’s tastes. She seemed the type who’d never had to fight for anything in her life, and he had too much baggage to bring someone like that down with him.

Regina’s half-sister Zelena was a shock to Killian’s system. Where Regina was witty, if a bit quirky, Zelena was calculated and downright wicked. In another life, they might have been good together, but Killian was attempting to better himself, and a woman like Zelena would bring the roughest parts of him to the surface. Regina seemed relieved to hear that the date had gone well but that there wouldn’t be a second.

Finally, there was Ruby’s college roommate Anna, who gossiped like Ruby, but dressed like Mary Margaret. She was the sweetest of the four, but a bit ditzy, and Killian found that he couldn’t keep a conversation going in one direction with her for very long before she’d get distracted or confused.

It was a rough two weeks, and Killian felt like his head was bound to fall off if one more person suggested a date for him to go on. His co-workers meant well, but they simply didn’t have his knack for matchmaking, it seemed.

Emma was offered matches as well, but was able to politely decline due to the fact that her meant-to-be-a-wedding date had only just passed without a white dress in sight. Lucky girl.

“So no matches for the great matchmaker himself, huh?” Killian was surprised she’d brought up the dates at lunch. He’d thought it was an unspoken rule of theirs to not speak of romantic endeavors anymore, but perhaps that was just _his_ rule.

“Alas, no. I told you ages ago, Swan. Very particular tastes.”

She hummed at that, as though she didn’t believe him. She knew now, unlike the last time they’d talked about Killian’s dating life, that his ‘very particular tastes’ included her. He wondered if she knew that was why it never worked with anyone else he dated.

“Well, this may be selfish, but I’m glad none of them worked out. I’d hate to lose my date to the Nolan wedding, after all.”

She was teasing him, and Killian smiled good-naturedly, but he felt tortured at the idea of going to that wedding with her. Before the dream, he would have been nervous. Now, after all his subconscious seemed to be telling him, he felt like he was willingly walking into a trap.

“I was thinking, actually, that Astrid’s neighbor might be good with Philip, from accounting.”

“Is going outside the office cheating, do you think?”

“If I limited myself to these four walls, I’d be out of a job as Cupid, Swan. Philip seems like a gentleman, and like he’s had a lot of things handed to him, but he still respects the people around him. I think he and Aurora would do well together.”

“So how are you going to do it? You’re not just going to be lazy and have Astrid do it, are you?”

“Oh, ye of little faith! I would never take the coward’s way out, Swan. I’ll think of something.”

As it turned out, Philip’s favorite sweater was in need of repair, and Aurora was an amateur seamstress. She ran an Etsy shop of her various projects, and was always looking for practice.

“Philip, what’s happened to your sweater?” Killian noticed the hole in the elbow one afternoon when Philip was beside him at the copy machine.

“Ah, you know, things get old, they wear out. It’s my favorite sweater – my grandmother made it for me for my graduation present from college. You can’t buy them like this, you know.”

Killian was fairly certain you could, in fact, buy them like that, but he kept his mouth shut on that.

“I happen to know a girl who sews. She could probably patch that right up for you, if you’d like.”

“People still sew? Killian, that’d be great! Would you give it to her for me?”

“Oh, er…she lives nearby. You could probably meet her yourself. Here, I’ll let her know to expect a call from you, and you can contact her and arrange everything.”

“Killian, is this one of your--,”

“Just a co-worker looking to get another co-worker’s sweater patched up, mate. Nothing more.”

A week later, Philip’s sweater was good as new, and the smile on the accountant’s face told Killian that he’d done more with Aurora’s phone number than ask for a patch job.

And a week after that, a tiny sweater had been placed on Killian’s Captain Hook figurine: a black sweater with a huge heart adorning the front.

“Aurora made it when I told her you had a habit of setting people up and trying not to take credit for it. She asked how we could thank you and I mentioned this little…collection you had going on. Thought it suited the situation nicely.”

“Aye, Philip, it’s very sweet. Tell Aurora I said thank you, please.”

“Thank _you_ , Killian. It was kind of you to send me to Aurora. I hope you don’t mind my saying that I’m glad it didn’t work out for the two of you.”

“Not at all. I’m glad it’s working out, then.”

“You’ve got a special touch, it seems.”

“Aye, perhaps.”

A few moments later, Regina’s voice floated out of her doorway.

“Killian, my office, please. Close the door.”

Killian rolled his eyes a bit, but did as Regina asked.

“I have a strange question for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured to say yes, just because I’m your boss. But I hope you’ll consider it, because I’m your friend.”

“You’re scaring me a bit, Regina.”

“Killian, I’d like you to be…whatever the male version of a bridesmaid is.”

“A groomsman, I’m fairly certain.”

“Right, but on the bride’s side. My sister is my maid of honor, of course, but I’d like for you to be beside me on my wedding day, as well.”

“Regina, I…wow.”

“I know, it’s strange. But at least consider it?”

“No need, I’d be honored.”

“Truly? It’s just…well, I think it’s hardly a secret that you’re one of my best friends, Killian. And I’d never have asked Robin on a single date if you hadn’t sent me to that archery range to meet him. I have quite a bit to thank you for.”

“No need for thanks, Regina. But I will do this for you. I’d love to. Have you set a date?”

“Not yet. With our engagement so close to Mary Margaret and David’s, we thought it best to at least set a date after their wedding was over.”

“Aye. Well, let me know when you’ve got one. Thank you for asking, Regina. Although, I should mention, I’m not wearing a dress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing particularly Captain Swan related this chapter, so I apologize. But next chapter they'll be heading to the Nolan wedding together.... ;)
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	22. Chapter 22

As the weather grew warmer, Killian thought about all that had happened in the past year. Last time the beginnings of spring were upon him, Regina was forcing everyone outside in order to annoy her representative from Human Resources; this year she was engaged to the man who held that position. Last year, Killian had been confessing his love to Emma Swan, a ring on her finger, and then leaving her behind – he thought – for good; this year, she had no ring, but he still didn’t have her. Last year, he’d had two perfectly good hands and only one figurine on his desk. But as his number of functioning limbs decreased, his figurine collection grew. He looked at the mismatched trio on his desk the day before Mary Margaret and David’s wedding, thinking about how much he’d gained and how much he’d lost.

“So, we’re still on for tomorrow?” Emma asked him at lunch.

“Of course, Swan. Wouldn’t miss it.” He knew his smile didn’t reach his eyes, knew she could tell something was wrong, but she didn’t press him.

“You know you have to dance with me, right? That’s, like, what dates do. So I hope you’re ready for my killer moves, Jones.” She was trying to lighten him up.

“I’ll surely do my best,” he told her as he tossed half his lunch in the garbage and headed out to his desk.

Killian wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, honestly. He’d been so ready to fight for Emma, to win her over, to make her love him, but now he was barely able to look at her. He loved her still, of course, wanted her more than anything, but his hatred for himself had grown so deep that he couldn’t bother fighting for anything he didn’t think he deserved.

And he certainly didn’t deserve Emma Swan.

The following morning, he dressed in his old tux, the one he’d inherited from Liam after Liam had filled out and wasn’t able to wear it anymore for fear of stretching the arms irrevocably. Killian was lean, as Liam had been before the Academy, and never gained the muscles of his older brother, and so the tux still fit.

It wasn’t anything special, just a plain black tux with a white dress shirt beneath it, but he felt closer to his brother when he wore it. He needed that today.

He pulled up in front of Emma’s apartment building and waited. He was early, and Emma always ran late, so he knew he still had a few minutes before she—

Before he was able to finish his train of thought, there she was. Her hair was curled and ran down past her shoulders, her dress was a dark emerald green, off-the-shoulder number that hugged her tightly on top and flared out at the waist. He was enchanted and she hadn’t even reached the car yet.  

“As friends,” she’d said. Bloody hell.

“Hey! Look at me, I’m early! Aren’t you proud? Here, I got you this. I know it’s not, like, prom or anything, but I thought we should match a bit and I knew you were wearing a tux, so I figured a pocket square would be cool. I hope that’s okay. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to--,”

“Swan, _breathe_. The pocket square is fine.” He tucked it into his jacket pocket to show her. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.”

“Nervous? Why?” Killian didn’t tell her that he’d been nervous for days, thinking about how he was going to have to entertain the love of his life all evening without embarrassing himself or scaring her off, thinking about dancing with her with only one functioning hand. Thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“I’m…not really sure, honestly. I just woke up this morning and my stomach was in knots and I may have had too much coffee.”

“Well then let’s get some champagne into your system to even it out, eh?”

And they were off.

Saint Henry Church was a small church at the very edge of Storybrooke. It was the perfect venue for a quiet couple like David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard to say their vows. There was a small multi-purpose room attached to the side where the reception would be. Killian couldn’t wait to see how the room would be transformed to fit Mary Margaret’s dream wedding. With her party planning prowess, it was sure to be impressive.

They were among the first to arrive, and after a bit of discussion on which side they would sit on, they chose the groom’s: Mary Margaret had a large extended family, and David Nolan did not, and so they decided to even out the numbers a bit.

The bridal party was minimal: David’s brother, James, stood at the front of the room with him – it was a bit jarring to see two of his deskmate, if Killian were being honest – and James’ wife Ella walked down the aisle before Mary Margaret, performing the duties of the maid of honor. James was a near identical copy of David, except where David had a kind smile, James always looked as though he were plotting his next move in some scheme. Ella’s face matched his perfectly, and they looked as though they wanted to eat each other up at the front of the church.

Gross.

Luckily, the wedding march began and Killian was able to distract himself from the strange display at the front of the church in order to turn around and watch Mary Margaret, alias Snow White, walk down the aisle towards her Prince Charming. Her dress was…unique, Killian would give her that. It appeared to be sewn together from…were those feathers?

At any rate, she looked radiant, and judging by the tears in David Nolan’s eyes, he wholeheartedly agreed.

After the minister pronounced them husband and wife, they kissed, cheered, and practically ran from the room to relish their time alone together before the reception. It was only as they stood to leave that Killian realized that, at some point during the ceremony, he and Emma had begun holding hands.

She seemed to realize it at the same time, but she didn’t let go. Just gave him a small smile and nudged him forward into the aisle to lead the way to the reception.

They found their seats quickly, and Killian was pleased to see that they were sitting amongst other co-workers. Regina and Robin, Victor and Ruby, and Philip and his plus-one, Aurora, had been placed at their same table. Surrounded by his matchmaking successes, Killian was feeling just a bit romantic.

“Emma?”

“Walsh?”

Who the hell was Walsh?

“Hey! It’s been…what? Six months? How are you?”

“I’m um…I’m good, thanks. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, David invited me. He didn’t mention that you’d be here, but I’m glad--,”

“Yeah, well, I work with him. So it sort of makes sense that I’d be here, don’t you think?”

Killian noticed the tension gathering in Emma’s shoulders as she spoke to this Walsh person. He didn’t want to overstep, but as Emma had once said, they were past that.

“Killian Jones, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, interrupting the conversation. Walsh looked a bit shocked, as though he hadn’t noticed Killian sitting next to Emma until that very moment.

“You, too, man. So, Emma--,”

“Emma, would you like to step outside for a moment? Before the happy couple is announced and we’re stuck on the dance floor for the remainder of the evening?”

“Yes! Let’s go.”

Walsh looked a bit flabbergasted, as though he’d expected the conversation to go a certain way, and it certainly wasn’t like this. Killian knew that look well, especially when it came to Emma Swan.

“So…Walsh.”

“Are you really gonna make me tell you?”

“I dunno, Swan, I did just rescue you--,”

“Hey, I didn’t need rescuing. The only one who saves me, is _me_. That said, you did provide an assist. Which I appreciate. Walsh and I went on a few dates after Neal and I broke up.”

“What?”

“David and Mary Margaret, like, forced me into it, saying I needed to put myself out there. I think…I think they were trying to help me get over…everything. They tried to fill your shoes, since you were gone, but they just don’t get me like you do,” she smiled up at him. “They thought Walsh would be a good distraction. But he wasn’t. He was boring and self-obsessed and pushy and nothing like….” She stopped and looked at him.

“Nothing like who, Swan?” Killian heard the huskiness in his own voice. For a moment, he was embarrassed by it, but he saw the blush starting to creep into Emma’s features and he thought maybe….

“Nothing like…nothing like the guy I’m looking for. They were just trying to help, but Walsh wasn’t the answer. I was…a little heartbroken. Maybe I still am.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

He was a bit shocked at himself, at his blunt honesty, at the risk he was taking by saying something so deep. She looked a bit thrown, but not necessarily upset. There were tears in her eyes, but he suspected that maybe, possibly, they weren’t the same kinds of tears that fell when one had, for instance, a broken heart.

“We should head back in.” She grabbed his hand and walked a few steps before she realized she’d taken his left. “Killian, I’m sorry, I…I wasn’t thinking.” Still, she didn’t drop it.

This time, he nudged her forward, acting as though it were an everyday occurrence for someone to grab the hand he couldn’t feel, the hand that couldn’t move. As though he weren’t wishing, desperately, for feeling in that hand in that moment so that he could feel her soft fingers closing around it.

He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are curious, Emma's dress: https://i.imgur.com/VFmCKzJ.jpg
> 
> Anyway...HAND HOLDING! God, can these two kids just get it together already or what!?
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	23. Chapter 23

Killian Jones was not an alcoholic. He was easily able to toss his stash of liquor out the window when he was offered the job at Storybrooke Paper Company, and since then, he’d been able to have a glass or two of rum at social events without ever going overboard. He didn’t keep liquor in his apartment and his flask had been empty for over four years.

Killian Jones was on his third glass of rum at that Nolan-Blanchard wedding when he realized that he didn’t particularly want to stop there. He knew he should; a voice in the back of his head practically begged him, but he didn’t listen.

By glass five, Emma found him at the bar, her face unreadable.

“My Swan!” he slurred.

“Killian, it’s been like an hour. Walsh found me again and…are you drunk?”

“Do I _look_ drunk?” He tried to stand straight up and look her dead in the eye.

“Yes. You do. Come on, Mary Margaret won’t be happy about this, we’ve got to get you some coffee and some air.”

“Ah, come on, Swan, just one more.”

“ _Now_ , Killian.” She grabbed his hand – his right, this time – and led him away from the bar. Once they were outside, she finally turned to look at him. He expected her to look angry – he’d left her alone, after all, in favor of a few glasses of rum at an open bar at a wedding she’d asked him to be her date to. But she just looked sad.

“Killian, what’s happening? I’ve never seen you drunk, not in all the years I’ve known you. Not at work events with beer, not at birthday parties or going away parties. None of it. And now you’re…you’re wasted. And you’ve been so distant lately. And I know things were weird, for a while, with us. After…you came back, and after everything with Neal and with Milah. But…I’d hoped we could go back, you know? Maybe I was just being foolish--,”

He kissed her, then. He couldn’t listen to her anymore because he needed to be kissing her. He couldn’t tell her anything anymore – words weren’t enough for what he needed to say. So, he told her with his mouth pressed up against hers, with his tongue tracing her lips, with his motionless, useless hand on her waist, and his good hand in her hair. He was drunk and she was perfect and he loved her so much and she tasted like vanilla – he’d missed the cake, then – and smelled like roses.

He pulled away first, not sure what he’d see when he looked at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red from his stubble. Her hair was a bit tangled now, but still beautiful. Her eyes were bright. He’d expected, once again, to see anger there, but there was…excitement? Glee?

Not love, surely.

“I don’t deserve you, Emma. If I ever did before, I certainly don’t now. I know I told you I’d fight for you, but it’s a losing battle. I--,”

“Killian, shut _up_.” And she was on him. She pulled him close, hands gripping his tux like they’d gripped his leather coat last year. Her tongue was in his mouth and he didn’t think, only responded. He brought his left arm all the way around her waist and pulled her as tight to him as he could manage. His right hand cupped her cheek, and she sighed a bit.

“Oh, _finally_! Victor, look!” Ruby. “So much for not dating co-workers, Killian!”

Shit.

He reluctantly pulled back from Emma, expecting her to fall away from him completely. But instead, she held onto his arm, linking her fingers with his. He looked down at her, but she was looking at Victor and Ruby, a small smile on her face.

“Hell yeah, Killy!”

“Emma, some guy inside has been looking for you for, like, ever. Should I go tell him you are presently occupied?” Ruby wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Walsh. No, I think I’d rather tell him myself. Killian, shall we?”

“Uh, lead the way.”

What the hell was happening?

Emma led him back inside and straight to the dance floor. He was still dizzy from the drinks, from the kissing, from everything. But he managed to hold her. The band played an old tune Killian vaguely recognized from Liam’s record collection.

_Sometime in the morning, a simple thought may occur to you  
_ _And you hold her_

“Killian, about what you said outside…what did you mean it was a losing battle?”

 “Just that, Swan. If I were meant to have you, I would by now. I don’t deserve you. I’m a broken man, you see. I always have been, on the inside, and now the outside to match.”

  _And tell her all the things you never told her.  
__Your love has shown me things, I never thought I could see._  

“Killian, you’re not _broken_.” She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look directly at her. “We all have a past. Mine isn’t perfect, either. And as for your hand, that’s just silly. You’re still a whole person.”

_I didn’t know, it could be done so easily._  
_Now I know.  
_ _You’re where it is for me._

“That’s just it, Emma. I’m not. I can’t hold you or protect you. I can’t do anything you deserve with only one working hand. And your past may not be perfect, but mine is…different. Your story was thrust upon you. I chose my path, and it wasn’t a good one.”

“Protect me? From what? Are ogres coming to get me? I don’t need protecting, Killian. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re doing a pretty good job of holding me right now.”

_Sometime in the evening, you’re sitting there by the fireside  
_ _And she’ll touch you._

“Milah left because of it, Emma. I couldn’t take it if you left because…because of this,” he moved his arm to hold up his hand but she snatched it. “Emma, I can’t even feel you holding my hand right now, doesn’t that bother you?” 

“No.” She kissed his hand, though he couldn’t feel that either, and gently maneuvered it back around her waist.

_And you’ll realize how much you never knew before,  
__How much you couldn’t see._  

“And as for your past,” Emma continued, “I don’t care about it. I don’t care if you robbed banks or pillaged entire towns. I care about the way you look at me, the way you listen – _really_ listen – to what I’m saying and you call me on my bullshit, the way you always know when something’s wrong. The way you care so much about everyone’s happiness. Isn’t it time you started worrying about your own?”

_You didn’t know, it could be done so easily._  
_Now you know.  
__She’s all a girl could be._  

“Emma--,”

“Look, I’m not…I’m not going to force your walls down. I’ve got my own I’m still worried about. I’m not going to force you to be with me. But if you still want…to try. If you still want to give this a shot, then I’m here. I’m ready. I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, Killian. We may not be Mary Margaret and David. We might fight and butt heads, just like we do now. But I think we could be something really great.”

“How did this turn into _you_ convincing _me_ we should be together?”

“I guess I’ve just spent enough time waiting for you to get the nerve to make it happen.”

“Emma, are you sure?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she just kissed him. On the dance floor at the wedding of a couple they’d put together. In front of their co-workers and friends, in front of Walsh, wherever he may be. She kissed him and he held her and she didn’t fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whistles innocently again*
> 
> The song playing is "Sometime in the Morning" by the Monkees. Micky Dolenz did a slower version of it a few years back. You can listen to the live version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3aLKmjBaMg


	24. Chapter 24

“Yeah, he’s still sleeping. No! Nothing at all. He was so drunk, it was actually kind of cute once he stopped being an idiot. The couch. Yeah. Okay, see you next week. Have fun!”

Killian awoke to a very familiar voice in a very unfamiliar place. His bed felt too short and his pillows felt too hard. He was still wearing his dress pants and his undershirt.

What the hell—

Oh, no. It all hit him at once. The wedding, the drinking, the confessions… The kissing.

His eyes sprang open.

He wasn’t in his bed. He was on a couch. And that was Emma’s voice. He was on Emma’s couch, in her apartment, because he’d been too drunk to drive home.

Oh, God.

“Morning, sleepyhead. I was thinking of making pancakes. Would you like some?”

“Er…I should…”

“No. Do not say you should go. Don’t try to run out on this. We’re going to talk. Like adults.”

“Could I maybe have some aspirin first, then?” He knew better than to argue with a determined Emma Swan. But that didn’t mean he had to have a headache while she subjected him to torture.

“Fine.” She grabbed two aspirin and pointed to the glass of water she’d apparently already left out for him. He swallowed the pills and chugged the whole glass.

“Pancakes sound lovely. Would you like some help?”

“Nope!” She turned on her heel into the kitchen. It was attached to the living room, one wide open space, and Killian watched her while she gathered ingredients, a determination and confidence in her that he hadn’t seen before.

Killian Jones was in for a very interesting morning.

Ten minutes later, he was situated at her kitchen island, a mountain of pancakes in front of him and a mug of coffee waiting beside his plate. He waited for Emma to speak first, knowing she had plenty to say.

“Did you know I was the one who found you?”

Killian stared at her in confusion. Found him?

“In the warehouse.”

_Oh._

“Neal had texted me from some random number – I guess he got a pre-paid phone after I took him off my plan. He said he wanted to talk, that he would wait for me outside after work. I stayed late that day. With the four of you helping in the warehouse, there was a ton of stuff to do upstairs. I was there till almost seven. He was still there when I got outside.” She’d stopped eating as she recounted the story, a rare occurrence. “He started off apologetic, you know, trying to get me to take him back. When I refused, he got really angry, and said…some nasty things.” Killian felt his own shoulders tense, remembering Neal’s words to him about Emma that day. “Anyway, he vaguely gestured towards the open door to the warehouse, saying something about how ‘you two deserve each other’, and left. I walked in and saw…you.”

She finally looked at him then. She looked at his eyes, his lips, and then down at his hand.

“If I’d gotten there earlier…”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” Killian was so angry, so suddenly, that it shocked him a bit. All this time, he’d figured the early morning cleaning crew had found him, or a random warehouse worker, come back for something they’d forgotten. It hit him like a ton of bricks: Neal had not only left Killian there after damaging his hand irreparably, but then had left _Emma Swan_ to find him.

No wonder she’d kissed him: she felt bad for him; still blamed herself for what had happened.

“Look, Swan. Neal was drunk, and he was out of his mind. I egged him on, he got more and more angry, and eventually he…did what he did to me. I’m only sorry you were the one to find me. You shouldn’t have seen any of it.” He couldn’t look at her.

“Killian, if I’d known you were still there, or if I’d known what Neal was doing…”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault, and I don’t need your pity.” He stood to leave.

“Sit. Down.” She was angry. She had a darkness in her eyes that caused Killian to sit back down immediately. “Killian, stop running. I’ve done my share of running and I know what it looks like. Stop doing it. Stop running from me. I’m telling you this because that day was absolutely terrifying for me. Because I walked into the warehouse and there you were, unconscious on the ground, your left hand twisted at this crazy angle…. You didn’t wake up for so long.” The anger had faded and now she looked far away, lost in her memory of the day Killian’s life had changed dramatically. “I was worried I’d lost you. I was so scared of all the different outcomes, and I couldn’t take it if any of them ended up with you not being in my life anymore.”

Killian’s jaw ticked.

“Killian, tell me what you’re thinking. Say something.”

“What am I supposed to say, Swan? Sorry you felt guilty for finding me incapacitated, sorry you felt so guilty about all of it that you felt obligated to ask me to a wedding. Sorry you felt so guilty that…”

“Do you…do you think last night happened because I felt guilty about…” Emma vaguely gestured to Killian’s limp left hand, a crease between her brows.

“Is that not the case?” Killian had tried to sound biting and sarcastic, but instead the question had come out soft and needy and desperate.

“No, you idiot! It’s not!”

“Then why? I was an utter fool last night, I’ve _been_ an utter fool practically since I confessed my feelings for you over a year ago. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, Killian!”

Both of them had been steadily increasing in volume as they spoke, to the point that her confession echoed around the apartment, and the silence that followed was even more deafening. Finally, Killian spoke.

“What?”

“Jesus, Killian, it’s not that difficult to understand.”

“You hid from me, switched your lunch hour, avoided me like the plague.”

“Because you were over me. You’d moved on, you had Milah.”

“Milah left.”

“And you were heartbroken.”

“Not because of her. She was never…she was never you.”

“You said all those things, the day we set up Leroy and Astrid, and then you never…did anything. I thought you’d given up.”

“I had.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t feel worthy of you. I still don’t.” Suddenly Killian was very glad for the length of the kitchen island between them. He needed space if he was going to bare his heart and soul to Emma. He had a vague sense of deja vu, and it occurred to him that he’d said this last night, drunk. And now he was sober and fully aware of the all-too-familiar ache in his chest.

“You said that last night, too. Do you think your hand matters to me?” She seemed genuinely confused by the idea.

“Milah wouldn’t even look at it after it happened. I felt…incomplete. I still do. I feel like three-quarters of a man.” 

She stood, then, eliminating the three feet of space between them. He turned on his stool so that his body faced her, but he couldn’t look at her. She grabbed his face and forced his chin up.

“You are a whole person. You’ve always been a whole person, and not being able to move your left hand, of all things, doesn’t change that. I’m not saying your life isn’t different because of what happened, but _you_ are still the same person. I loved you with both hands and I love you with one. If you lost the other, I’d still love you.”

“Emma, I--,”

But she kissed him. She tasted like maple syrup and sweet butter and he found himself pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

“And hey,” she said, breaking the kiss but leaning her forehead on his. “Neal was right about one thing.”

“And what on Earth is that?”

“We do deserve each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Within the next week or so (depending on work!), expect another installment of Missed Connections, which is the companion piece to Match Makers.
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY LOVES! I'm so sorry, I've been pulling double shifts all week, so I'm a bit behind. But I'm here now! We've still got a few chapters after this as well, and they should be posted on schedule :)

Killian was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

It had been six days since the Nolan wedding. Nearly one week since he’d spent the entirety of a Sunday curled up on a couch with his favorite receptionist, talking about nothing and everything.

They brought each other breakfast each day that week. It seemed the easiest way to hide the fact that they were spending every single night together. After all, if they’d just been together that morning, why on Earth would they need to bring each other breakfast? Still, people noticed.

So Emma took it upon herself to stop the questioning looks and hand-covered whispers. On Friday morning, when Killian dropped her bear claw and hot chocolate off at her desk, she stood, walked around and kissed him square on the lips.

It was quick, and absolutely nothing like the kisses they shared in her apartment – he hadn’t invited her to his. Not yet. But it silenced the rumors, because now they were no longer theories. It was a cold, hard fact: Killian Jones and Emma Swan had finally come to their senses.

“Emma, by the way, it's great that you two are dating,” a gruff voice interrupted their quiet whispers at reception a few hours later. “But when a new client calls, you just have to randomly assign them to a sales person. You can't base who gets new clients on who you're sleeping with that week, okay?”

Leroy, ever the romantic, even as Astrid scolded him and told them how happy she was for them.

After lunch, Regina called Killian into her office. He’d known it was coming.

“You didn’t even _tell me_?” She’d meant to sound angry, but the grin on her face showed she was only teasing.

“It’s…brand new, Regina. I didn’t want to…I don’t know…”

“Jinx it?” Her voice was softer now. “I never told you I wanted to hide my relationship with Robin, did I?” Killian shook his head. “I thought it would be easier, if fewer people knew. I was waiting, like you, for it to blow up in my face. If no one knew the truth, then I could hide in my office, alone, when things ended badly. As I was so sure they would.”

“They didn’t, though,” Killian motioned to the diamond ring on Regina’s finger, the family photo on her desk of her smiling at her two men.

“Exactly, dummy. You’re only going to be your own downfall if you think that way. You and Emma…what you’ve got is real. Don’t hide it away.”

“I suppose you’re alright with me having my way with her at reception, then?” He winked at her, eager to get out of her office, now that she’d made her point.

“Get back to work, Jones.” She was smiling.

At 5PM sharp, Killian stood and grabbed Emma’s red leather jacket from the coat rack near her desk.

“Ready, Swan?”

She grinned at him as she stood and shrugged into the jacket he held open for her.

“What should we get for dinner?” She asked as they walked down the stairs.

“Italian?”

“We had Italian on Wednesday.”

“Chinese?”

“Monday.”

“Pizza?”

She made a face.

“I feel as though you’ve got something in particular in mind, Swan, so why don’t you just tell me?” They’d reached her bug as they talked.

“I was hoping…I was hoping you’d invite me to your place. To cook. You always brag about your brand-new oven and you still haven’t made a move to invite me over to see it.”

She had that sad, small look on her face, and he realized that he hadn’t been as subtle as he’d thought about insisting they continue their shenanigans at her place over his.

“Emma, I--,”

“Whatever you have at your apartment that you’re trying to hide from me, you don’t have to. The sooner you get that through your head, the better. I’m not going to care about…whatever it is.”

“It’s not…I’m not hiding anything. Just, give me a bit to clean up, yeah? I’ve been spending all my time elsewhere, so it’s a bit unkempt at the moment,” he pulled her close.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” she pecked him on the cheek and was gone.

Crafty girl.

He raced home and attempted to put some order to his apartment. Truthfully, he used to be a tidy person. But then he’d stopped caring about anything, and the cleanliness of his apartment just wasn’t something he’d bothered with. His laundry, thankfully, he’d kept up with out of necessity.

Three trash bags and a quick Swiffer of the apartment later, and he still had two minutes before Swan was due.

He eyed the scarf on the bedpost in his room and decided to leave it. She’d have questions, he was sure. Likely she’d just think he’d kept it as a memento of that night on the boat on the Tigelaar River, and it would probably be easier to let her keep believing that.

_Bzzzzzzzzzt._

He pressed the button to allow her to enter the building. This was it.

“It’s so much more…plain than I’d imagined,” she said as she looked around.

“Ah, um…sorry?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude! I just…I expected to learn more about you from your apartment and you’re giving me nothing here.”

“You know me plenty, Swan.”

“I’ll never know you enough – I’ll always want to know more.” She pulled him close to her in a hug.

She stepped away and Killian watched as she continued to look at his bare walls, until she reached the doorway of his bedroom.

“Killian, is that the scarf? From the boat?”

“Ah, yes, but it’s not--,”

She turned on him suddenly.

“I _know_ you didn’t keep that thing just because half of it was used to bandage up my hand. Or at least, if that were why, you wouldn’t be hanging it proudly from your bedpost. What’s that scarf from, Killian?”

“I’m not…”

He’d hoped she’d just think he was a crazy sentimental fool, keeping a memory from a night they’d both said was stuck in their heads after all this time. He should have known she’d know better. He’d kept a few random mementos from his memories with Emma over the years: a menu from the Italian restaurant, a chip from casino night. But they were in a box in a drawer, out of sight. He wasn’t sentimental enough to display those things. The scarf, which he would have kept after that night regardless, was a different type of memento. There was no use lying.

“It was my brother’s.”

“You…you tore it in half.”

“It was old and frayed. It wouldn’t have held up through the winter.” He remembered telling her that before, while her palm bled and his cheeks flushed with the cold air. Before his heart had been crushed in a thousand pieces when Neal chose a date, announced it to the entire staff.

“Still…if you kept this half, put it up for display, it obviously meant enough that you shouldn’t have torn it.”

“It’s already done, Emma. No sense telling me now what I shouldn’t have done.”

She stepped close to him again, invading his personal space.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not…doing something sooner. For letting you love me and letting you think I didn’t love you back. For not breaking things off with Neal when I saw he wasn’t what I truly wanted anymore.”

“No need to apologize for any of that. We can’t change what’s happened.”

“I know. But I just…the closer we get, the more I see how crazy stupid I was to let things go on the way they were. You loved me so much--,”

“Love, Swan. Present tense.”

Emma smiled up at him and tears were gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“Present tense,” she said before she kissed him. It was soft, and it was perfect.

Liam smiled on from his spot on the dresser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short lil fluffy chapter to get you through this chilly December week.
> 
> These last few chapters will be a bit more heavily Office-influenced. There are some really good Jim/Pam scenes I wanted to include :)
> 
> Also, I started a new collection called Mistletoeing & Hearts Glowing for various CS Christmas fics. I'll be updating that throughout the week leading up to Christmas.
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	26. Chapter 26

The next day, a Saturday, Killian woke up with blonde hair in his face. He wrapped his arms around Emma, tugging her flush against him.

It was entirely too early, the sun entirely too bright, but Emma Swan was in his bed and all was right in the world. Killian had opened his home to her and she hadn’t died of boredom, hadn’t run away in the middle of the night. They’d cooked chicken parmesan and Killian had found an incredible sweet potato fry recipe on the internet. Truthfully, it was too perfect.

But Killian was done questioning it. If Emma Swan wanted to be with him, far be it for him to ruin it for himself. He’d spent too long watching her with someone who didn’t deserve her. All he could do was treat her the way she deserved to be treated, love her like she deserved to be loved.

If he could spend the rest of his life waking up like this, he’d be the happiest man alive.

“I know you’re awake,” she whispered, but she still didn’t turn around.

“I am, indeed. Should I make coffee?”

“Nope. Don’t move.”

“Aye, captain.”

They lounged around for an hour, kissing lazily, dozing off once. And then she had to go, some errands to run, but would he want to come over to her place tonight?

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Swan.”

He decided to run some errands of his own. He needed to get his tux dry-cleaned, still. Wanted to grab some basic ingredients for the next time Emma decided she wanted to use his oven instead of hers.

He hadn’t meant to walk into the jewelry store.

But it was there and the door was open and the staff was, blessedly, all busy with other customers, so he got to peruse quietly. He stopped short when he found a ring.

He’d been dating Emma Swan for one week. And yet this ring _screamed_ her name, _begged_ to be on her finger. He’d been in love with her for years. Emma Swan was it for him, he knew that much.

He tried to think about Emma’s old engagement ring. He’d spent enough time avoiding looking at it, but he’d also spent the first three months of her engagement staring at it, willing it to disappear. It was small. A gold band, when all her other jewelry was silver. The diamond was the size of the head of a needle. He knew Emma didn’t care about size, but he also knew – could feel – that there was nothing _special_ about that ring.

But this one…a silver band, first and foremost. The most obvious thing and Neal couldn’t even—no, Killian wouldn’t go there. Not in a jewelry store on a day he’d woken up next to Emma Swan for the sixth consecutive morning.

There was space for three stones. The center was a large diamond, a full carat if the sign were to be believed. Just as he was wondering if the stones on the side could be replaced with other gems, a salesperson walked up.

“That’s a gorgeous setting! One of my favorites. Can I help you finalize your decision at all?” Red hair and a toothy smile greeted Killian from across the counter. Her nametag read ‘Ariel’. She seemed genuine enough, and he hoped his gut was right and that she wouldn’t try to upsell him and convince him to upgrade this and insure that.

“Is it customizable? I’m wondering if the smaller stones could be replaced with something…not a diamond.”

“Sure! It’s a common enough setting, nothing special about the band. We could custom order that for you. Do you know what gem you’d like to see in the other spots?”

Killian thought for a moment. He almost hated that he knew Emma’s birthstone off the top of his head. Was that weird? Was it too much?

No. No more questioning, he’d promised himself that very morning.

“Opal.”

“Oh, a great choice! Opals are so unique!”

Killian listened as she discussed other settings he might like – no, definitely this one, thank you – other sizes – no, these are perfect – and insurance options – the lowest one possible, just in case.

He filled out a custom order form and paid the deposit while in a fog. He wasn’t worried about the money – he’d saved for years, having nothing to spend his extra cash flow on, living as minimally as he did. He was a bit worried that he’d rushed things, but, he supposed, four years of waiting was long enough.

He spent the next two weeks purposely not thinking about the ring he’d ordered. The ring he’d custom ordered for Emma Swan, with her birthstone in it. The ring he was terrified to give her.

The good news was, while he was waiting, and not thinking about the ring, and waiting some more, he got to wake up next to Emma every single morning. Sometimes at his apartment, but mostly at hers. He told her about his parents, or his dad anyway, and about Liam. He talked for an entire evening about Liam, sitting with Emma on the couch.

“He died doing important things, saving people, generally being a damn hero. And here I am, in Storybrooke, selling paper to the local high school.”

He’d meant to sound light and funny, as though it hadn’t bothered him for as long as he could remember that his brother had died a hero and he was a boring desk jockey. He hadn’t sounded light at all.

“Killian, just because you aren’t saving lives doesn’t mean you’re not a hero, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re not important.”

“A hero? Me?”

“Sure. You save me from dying of boredom at work every single day. Trust me, you have a mark in the hero column.” She turned and kissed his cheek lightly, trying to convey more than her words.

“Aye, I suppose that’s true.” He squeezed her shoulders.

He really did love her.

The ring came and Killian was almost as nervous to pick it up as he was to plan a proposal.

“It’s perfect,” he gasped when Ariel opened the box to show him.

“It really turned out great. The green in the opals they used is phenomenal.”

Fate, perhaps, that the green would somehow match Emma’s eyes.

Or maybe just Killian’s imagination.

He hid the box with the ring in the same box he used to store his random mementos of Emma. She didn’t know where it was, or what was in it, so chances of her finding it were slim. He wasn’t sure how he was going to propose, or even when. He just knew he wanted to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my darling beta, Ally, for coming up with the idea for this chapter. Inspired by Jim Halpert.
> 
> "I am...not kidding. Got it a week after we started dating." -The Office, Season 4 Episode 10. "Chair Model"
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	27. Chapter 27

A week after Killian had picked up quite possibly the biggest and most important purchase of his entire adult life, Regina hit him in the stomach with a job for him.

“I need you to go to Misthaven. A few of our clients from out there want some one-on-one time with a salesperson instead of the phone-call-only system we’ve been forced to deal with since we closed the branch out there.”

Misthaven.

Where Milah was.

“Why me?”

“My mother hand-picked you, if you’d like me to be honest. Said you’re the only one at this branch who’s dealt with any of these clients before. Aside from Leroy. You make the most sense.”

“David’s the best salesman in the office – in the company, if his word’s anything to go by.”

“David never worked in Misthaven.”

“God, Regina, come on.”

“Killian, I know. I know who’s out there and that it’s a small town and there’s a chance you’ll see her. I _know_. But I almost think that might be good for you. You’re happy now – happier than I’ve ever seen you, probably. And maybe you could use the closure, or whatever,” she waved her hand in the air, dismissing him. Her face was still apologetic, but her word was final.

“Are you kidding me?” Emma was incredulous when Killian told her. “She can’t just send you away--,”

“Emma, it’s only a week.”

“Yeah I’ve just…I’ve gotten used to sleeping next to you. I’m being selfish. I want you to stay.”

“I’m not particularly excited about it either, Swan. But, as they say, that’s why they call it work.”

He was trying to be light and breezy and funny, but truthfully his heart was beating too fast and he was terrified to think of what he’d do if he ran into Milah. He was happy, Regina was right about that, but Milah leaving him had done a lot of damage to his psyche. He’d felt like a failure, as though he were “less than” for most of his life, but he’d never felt incomplete until Milah had left without looking at his limp, mangled hand.

He hadn’t felt complete again until Emma had grabbed it at the Nolan wedding a few weeks ago.

Killian knew there was a chance he wouldn’t even run into Milah, but he’d be there for a week. He’d need food, he’d need to occasionally leave whatever dingy hotel room they put him in occasionally. The town of Misthaven was even smaller than Storybrooke. He’d be paranoid, head on a swivel the whole time he was there.

The following Monday, he packed a bag and headed out, his $200 per diem and the company card for gas tucked into his wallet.

He missed Emma as soon as he dropped her off at SPC that morning, his heart telling him she probably missed him too, his brain telling him he was probably crazy.

At the very least, they were both a little crazy.

He pulled into the Four Seasons and was glad, at least, that his room had a view, facing the lake behind the hotel, as opposed to the boring boxes of a suburban small town on the opposite side of the building.

 

 

And so he went off and met with one of the four clients he’d be meeting with that week. He went over the staffing changes since the branch closing, any price increases, and addressed all of their concerns. It was standard and boring and oh _God_ he just wished he could go home to Emma after.

And then he checked his phone when he got back to the hotel and…she’d sent him a photo and those were _definitely_ his sheets.

It had been unspoken, the exchanging of the keys. As they’d started spending more and more time at each other’s apartments, it had just made sense. If Killian needed to run out to grab more sauce when they were cooking at Emma’s, borrowing her keys was an inconvenience.

“Just grab the spare from the hook by the door,” she’d said. And he’d just never given it back. He’d attached his own spare key to her keyring three days later, while they’d been sitting together at lunch.

As simple as that.

“Swan, you _cannot_ do that to a man!” he growled into the phone when she answered on the second ring.

“Do what?” she countered innocently.

“You’re in my bed.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because my bed doesn’t smell as much like you as yours does.” She sounded genuinely sad, like she might actually miss him as much as he missed her and he was glad he’d brought the ring with him – much as it was burning a hole in his pocket – because if she was in his apartment, she could very well have found it.

And he very much didn’t want her to find it.

“I miss you, too.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“Are you okay? I haven’t asked. I know Misthaven is where…you know…”

“I haven’t seen Milah. I might not see her, who knows.”

“If you did…”

“Is that jealousy I detect?”

“Get over yourself, Jones.”

“Emma,” he said seriously, “if I ran into Milah, it would change nothing, do nothing. She helped me through a really difficult time in my life, and then she left, and now I have you. And you’re all that matters.”

He was saying more than he was actually saying and he heard the bed creak a bit as she shifted position. He could picture her curling up, gripping the blankets tightly in her hands. He wondered how her feet would get warm without him there.

“I love you, Killian.”

“And I, you. I should go. More sales calls tomorrow and all that.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” she sounded so far away. She was far away.

“’Night, Swan.”

He found it nearly impossible to sleep without cold feet on his shins and a body to throw his arm around and blonde hair under his nose, but he managed at least a few hours.

It wasn’t enough.

He stopped for breakfast before his meeting that day, pulling out his laptop to email the other two clients he was supposed to meet with to see if anyone could please, for the love of God, reschedule, so he could get home just a little bit faster. If his Thursday could meet this afternoon, he’d get to leave an entire day early. He was halfway through his pancakes when he heard his name.

“Killian?”

No.

“What the hell are you doing here, Killian?”

“Good to see you, too, Milah.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just…a bit shocked.”

She was wearing all black, a button-down shirt and slacks, and a nametag pinned near her collarbone.

“Do you…work here?”

“General manager. It’s not sales, but I get by. And I meet a lot of interesting people – Misthaven’s on the way to a lot of exciting places, at least.”

He hadn’t meant to insult her. He may have been as shocked as she was, despite having known this was a possibility.

“I’m here to meet with old clients. Some of them wanted some face-time since we’ve closed the branch down.”

“Are you dating Emma yet?”

What?

“What?”

She smirked a bit and shook her head.

“I just was hoping you’d get your act together and finally ask that poor woman on a date.”

“I’m…so confused.”

She tilted her head.

“Why do you think I left? You were never going to ask her if I was there. And the two of you were so painfully in love with each other, I couldn’t stand to look at it. It broke my heart, feeling like I was standing in the way of True Love,” she emphasized the words, “or some other such nonsense. Paper sales was never my calling anyway, just something to pass the time.” She was smiling wistfully at him.

Killian was _so confused_.

“I thought you left…because…,” he glanced down at his hand, immobile on the counter as always, forcing him to eat and then email, instead of doing both at once like he would have been able to do before…before.

Milah’s jaw dropped at a remarkable speed.

“You think I’m that selfish?”

“You wouldn’t even look at me, at it.”

“Because you sustained that God-awful, life-changing injury because of a woman who you couldn’t even ask on a simple date. And I was standing in the way of that for _months_. Oh, Killian.” She paused, then sat across from him, despite the fact that the restaurant was busy and she probably had other tables to greet or kitchen disasters to fix or drinks to run or something to help out the staff she was apparently in charge of. “I knew we were never meant to be, Killian. I loved you and we had such fun, but we were never a forever couple. And when the branch here closed and we moved to Storybrooke, that was all the proof I needed. You loved Emma Swan more than you could ever even hope to love me. And I’m not angry about it – I was, for a bit. But you deserve to be happy. And I wasn’t making you happy, not deeply and truly. I hope you asked her out and I hope you’re happy. Tell me I did something right in this ridiculous life of mine.”

“I bought a ring.” He could hardly believe he was saying it out loud – hadn’t even told Regina yet – to Milah of all people. He was so confused and there was this strange weight being lifted off his shoulders and then there was a _literal_ weight on his shoulders when Milah climbed around to his side of the booth and hugged him. And then he was telling her the whole ridiculous story and he was there for an hour and she comped his meal and told him to _please_ keep in touch.

“And if you’ve told Emma I left because of your damn hand, Jones, you’d better fix that as soon as you get home, you hear me?”

“Yes, Milah. It was good to see you, too.”

He met with both clients the next day, drove home, and crawled into bed with cold feet and blonde hair at precisely 11PM and didn’t sleep for three hours after that. She called out of work the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people hate OUAT's version of Milah, but THIS VERSION IS NOT HER. Not quite. I like my version of Milah. I think she's feisty and extremely self-aware, and that she didn't leave behind a small child without a word.  
> (I have mixed feelings on the real character, but this isn't the place for that)
> 
> Tumblr: awkwardnessandbaseball


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, kids! The final chapter of the first installment of Match Makers! I'll be taking January off to focus on Captain Swan January Joy & Captain Swan Little Bang. After that, I'll begin the next installment of this saga. Hopefully I'll be able to throw some one-shots into Missed Connections between now and then, as there are a few scenes I'm dying for you guys to see. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> (**Also, as a note, there are some lines in this chapter that are pretty close to direct quotes from The Office, so just for disclaimer reasons, I don't own those particular words or any of these characters)

It wasn’t that Killian didn’t have any ideas for how to propose to Emma Swan. It was that he had too many.

He thought about some elaborate plan involving all of the couples they’d put together. Or something cheesy with all of the places that had defined their relationship, but then he realized that their entire relationship had blossomed at work, and he didn’t want to propose at work. He _really_ didn’t.

He wasted months talking himself in and out of every single plan he had, telling himself he could wait. He had time.

First, he decided, he should probably know that she was in this for the long haul. He’d gotten ahead of himself with the ring and now, with a box hiding in his closet, he was nervous she wasn’t as committed as he was.

“We spend an awful lot of time together, Swan.”

“We do. I hope that’s not a complaint.”

“Not at all. Just…seems a waste of money for us each to be paying for an apartment if we’re both always in one of them.”

She hesitated for a moment and Killian’s heart was in his throat.

 _Too much too soon too much too soon too much too soon_ , repeated in his head like a horrible, horrible broken record.

“No, I…um…well I’m not gonna…I’m--,” she was stuttering and Killian was sweating and this was so bad, “I’m not gonna move in with anyone unless I’m engaged.”

Killian elected to ignore the fact that she’d been engaged to Neal, had lived with him, and it hadn’t ended well. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why the order of events mattered.

“Have I not proposed to you yet?” He was still sweating, still hopeful. It hadn’t been, after all, an outright no.

“Hmm,” she glanced at her finger, “I don’t think so, nope.”

 _Oh_.

“Oh, well, that’s coming,” he felt cold suddenly, as the sweat on his back caught up to him and he wasn’t sweating anymore, just a little damp.

“Oh, right now?” She was teasing him, but her eyes were a little wider than usual.

“No, I’m not gonna do it right now. That would be rather lame.” She wanted him to propose. She _wanted him_ to propose.

“Okay, so then when?”

“Emma, I’m not gonna tell you. I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how that works.”

“Oh, right,” she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Hey, I’m serious. It’s happening. And when it happens, it’s going to kick your ass, Swan. So, stay sharp.”

“I’ve been warned.”

It started with a dog.

“I thought perhaps we could stay at my apartment for a bit while he gets used to it, and then we can start bringing him to yours when I come there, if you’d like.”

“Oh, Killian, he’s perfect. Yes! I’ll just pack some extra clothes.”

He was a miniature Australian Shepherd mix, though the shelter hadn’t been sure of the other half of the mix. He had one brown eye, one blue, and a fabulous blue merle coat. He was missing his front left leg.

Killian had fallen in love with him and had known Emma would, too.

“I thought we could name him Captain. Like a pirate with a peg leg.”

“There’s the kitschy Killian I know.”

“Any better ideas?”

“No, your cheesiness is perfect, as always.”

Captain was three years old, by the vets’ estimate, and in decent shape aside from the leg. The shelter had found him on the side of the road, the leg a bloody, tangled, broken mess. They’d amputated it, and he seemed to get on just fine without it. Still, pets with missing limbs statistically had more trouble being adopted, so despite Captain’s loving and loyal personality, he’d been in the shelter for months.

He took to Killian quickly enough, but he was Emma’s biggest fan. He followed her everywhere, and whined when Killian came home without her.

“I know, bud, I miss her already, too. She’ll be here in ten minutes, but it doesn’t seem soon enough, does it?”

Regina let them bring Captain to work once a week, so long as he wasn’t a distraction, because Roland visited occasionally to have lunch with his father and step-mother-to-be, and Roland _loved_ dogs. The other four days, they hired a dog walker to let him out at lunch.

They doted on him like a real human child, and Killian loved Emma more every time she let Captain kiss her face, or she got down on the floor to rub his belly. Captain slept in the bed with them, curled up behind Emma’s knees.

It was, honestly, too perfect.

In the meantime, his main goal was to keep her off the scent. Couldn’t have her suspecting his plan before he was ready to execute, after all. Still, he wanted her to know _exactly_ what was on his mind.

They were in the lunchroom one Wednesday when he suddenly knelt in front of her and looked up at her very seriously. Her eyes went wide – surprise? Excitement? – but he simply picked up a pen he’d purposely dropped, winked at her, and stood back up.

In the middle of a particularly boring meeting in the conference room, he got down on one knee next to her.

“If you propose to me during a Regina meeting, I will say no.”

Ah, so she wouldn’t say no otherwise, then.

“Well, it’s too late, because I’m proposing…that you get me a cup of coffee, which would energize me greatly, and make me the happiest man in the world.”

She smirked at him, smacked his shoulder, and went to grab them each a cup of coffee.

He really was the happiest man in the world, coffee or no.

A month after Captain came home, Killian came home early from work on a Friday. As always, Captain whined when he saw that Killian was alone, but stopped quickly when he saw how excited his owner was.

“We are gonna plan the best surprise your mama has ever seen, boy. Are you excited?”

Captain barked.

“Good.”

He got started on dinner – sweet potato fries with cinnamon and chicken parmesan, of course. He watched the clock, counting down the minutes until 5:32PM, when Emma would walk through the door.

Same time, every day. Storybrooke was small enough that the traffic didn’t really slow her down, and Regina knew better than to keep Emma late today.

Regina knew everything.

At 5:26, Killian dug through the box in the back of his top dresser drawer and picked out the black velvet box from within. He grabbed a ribbon he’d been saving since he’d come up with this idea and carefully looped it through the ring. He tied the ring around Captain’s neck.

“Hmm. Too obvious, do you think?”

Bark!

Killian thought a moment, looking around his apartment. Emma had added some photos of them to his empty shelves. She’d draped her second favorite blanket over the couch. It was decidedly less bare than it had been before Emma Swan had entered his life, at long last, but it still didn’t have what he was looking for in that moment.

Unless…

The scarf.

Carefully, Killian untied the scarf from around the bedpost in his room. He looped it a few times around Captain’s neck, covering the ribbon and the ring until Killian was ready to show them off. Captain was a good sport about the whole thing, to his credit, though he didn’t exactly look happy.

“It’ll all be worth it, bud, I promise,” Killian told him as he heard Emma’s key in the lock.

“Hey! Smells good! Is that…cinnamon? Oh my God, what did you do to poor Captain? Here, let me get that off--,”

“Leave it, Swan. Let’s eat, and then we’ll deal with Captain’s fashion choices.”

She knew something was going on. He’d said he was leaving early for a sales call near the apartment, that Regina had approved his going home right after instead of coming all the way back. But he knew her inner lie detector was going off. Yet, she didn’t question it.

Good.

They talked while they ate, and it wasn’t until Killian pulled out the box of bear claws from Granny’s that Emma seemed to finally start connecting the dots.

“Bear claws are for _breakfast_ , Swan, not dessert,” he was always telling her.

She eyed him suspiciously, looking between him and the bear claw.

“There’s nothing in the pastry, Emma, just eat it.”

She took an oversized bite and while she chewed, he spoke.

“Many years ago, I walked into a seemingly harmless paper company. My boss was overbearing, but well-meaning. My desk mate was a grouch. I didn’t know anyone. But then the receptionist took me out to lunch, and I knew this paper company wasn’t harmless after all.

“I spent more than three years watching her with the wrong man. I saw how unhappy she was, and all I wanted, all that time, was to make her as happy as she deserved to be.

“I took my moments – I sent her gifts, I spent my lunches with her every day. She was my best friend.

“And it took a really long time – far too long, if you ask me – but finally, that girl and I found our way together. And I’ve woken up happier every single day since. And I hope, Emma, that you feel even a fraction of the happiness I feel.”

She’d stopped eating – a telltale sign that something big was coming.

“I do, Killian. I’m--,”

“Hold on, love, I’m not…I’m sorry, I’m just not quite done and if I don’t do this now, I worry I’ll lose my nerve.” She stayed silent, eyes wide. “Captain, come!” The dog came running, jumping into Killian’s lap when he patted it with his hand. Killian untied the scarf from Captain’s neck slowly. “What do you say, Swan? Will you marry me?”

She stared at the ring on the ribbon around Captain’s neck. Killian swallowed as he untied the ribbon, nearly shaking with nerves at her silence. There were tears in her eyes, he saw, and they began to prick his own as well. He wasn’t sure which emotion he was feeling quite yet. He held the ring out to her.

She still hadn’t answered.

“Can you, um, get Captain off your lap?”

Still shaking, Killian gently nudged Captain to the ground.

Emma stood, walking around the table slowly.

“I couldn’t do this with the dog there.”

She kissed him. Like her life depended on it. Like she couldn’t breathe without his oxygen. She dropped down into his lap and he held her, using all the strength in his right arm to keep her upright. Her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and everything – _everything_ – was Emma Swan in that moment.

When they finally came up for air, the ring was still in his right hand, positioned behind her back.

“You haven’t given me an answer, Swan,” he whispered against her neck.

“Oh! Yes, Killian. Of course I’ll marry you.” She reached behind her back and took the ring from him, sliding it onto her own finger.

And she never did finish that bear claw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO SO SO MUCH for every Hit, Kudos, and Comment. I love you all so much, and I'd have never finished this (part of the) story without you. I hope you're looking forward to the next part as much as I am.  
> Spoilers for Part Two ahead:  
> -Robin and Regina's wedding  
> -Company Picnic (OFFICE-WATCHERS, TAKE NOTE)  
> -Thrift store dress shopping  
> -So much more!
> 
> Till next time, I'll ALWAYS be taking prompts for this verse over on Tumblr at awkwardnessandbaseball. Also be sure to check out my Captain Swan Christmas/New Year's Collection of one-shots: Mistletoeing & Hearts Glowing.


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